The Chase
by LOTR-nutcase
Summary: Lothiriel just wants one little adventure before she has to marry a very boring man. Where else to go but Rohan?
1. Eavesdropping

**Disclaimer: **La. Based on the characters, names, places, and dates of JRR Tolkien's Middle Earth and The Lord of the Rings. All corruptions belong to me! :)

**Explanation:** Been reading all the challenge fics for Countries United, and since I already wrote one myself, I needed to vent all my pent-up Eomer/Lothiriel sentiments. Sorry ;)

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            The first thing I did when I accidentally overheard my father considering marrying me off to the King of Rohan was to sit down. The second thing involved a red face, punching a favorite pillow, and several heated vows to myself not to cooperate with anything. But rage soon faded to fear. What if father did decide to send me to Rohan? I knew that he would never deliberately hurt me, but he could be archaic in his practices at times and still believed firmly in the necessity of arranged marriages.

            I did not mind the arrangement of a marriage so much as the possibility that I might go into it with no foreknowledge of my groom (other than that he was a fine warrior and had the good fortune to have an extremely likeable younger sister). So I did what anyone in my position would have done. I sought out my cousin-in-law.

            Eowyn was giving unsolicited advice to the warden of Dol Amroth's City Hospital when I found her. I interrupted her discourse on the proper way to store comfrey and pulled her aside.

            "What is it, Lothiriel?" She put her hands on her hips and waited impatiently.

            "Will you tell me about your brother?" I blurted out, and then hastily explained myself. "You see, I've just overheard my father planning a possible betrothal between King Eomer and I, and before I make any sort of comment on the matter, I'd really like to have a better idea of what I'll be dealing with…" I trailed off and looked at Eowyn's amused face. She crossed her arms and leaned her head against the white stone wall.

            "Don't you think you should wait until something's final before you jump to conclusions?"

            I grimaced. "From what I heard, it practically is. Father said he was merely waiting for a reply from the Rohirrim to officially open negotiations."

            "And no one bothered to ask you about any of this?" Eowyn's gaze was sharp now. I backed up a step.

            "No…father has this thing for arranged marriages, since his and mother's worked out so well. He seems to forget that it took Elphir and Haida nearly two years to even stand each other."

            Eowyn was looking very grim. She sighed, and then said, "Why don't you simply talk to Imrahil about all this? From what I've seen, he would never force you into something you really didn't want."

            "That's why I want you to tell me about Eomer." She blinked at me. I tried to explain. "If not him, it will only be someone else later. So if he sounds reasonably acceptable, why not just get it over with?"

            "That's it? You're just going to roll over and saddle yourself to a man you don't even know just because your father tells you to?"

            I considered that for a moment. She didn't paint the matter in a very attractive light, but I supposed it was accurate enough. I shrugged. "Well, I was very angry at first… but I want to have a family someday and…why don't you just tell me about Eomer and let _me_ worry about the details?" Flustered, I pushed my hair back and crossed my arms. Eowyn giggled and sat down on a small bench. She patted the space next to her.

            "So you want to know about my brother do you?" She mused for a moment. "Well, he's at least the third-best soldier I've ever seen, and he could give the first two more than a little trouble. He rides like the wind, but I give more credit to his good taste in horseflesh than actual ability." Eowyn's eyes twinkled with sisterly rivalry. "He gets along well with most people, though he can be harsh and brief with strangers. Eomer is an excellent judge of character, but if he takes a disliking to you it's nearly hopeless to get back in his good graces." She hesitated and looked sideways at me. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you need to know the bad as well as the good. Eomer is known for his, uh…conquests. His manners are rough, but could know doubt be softened if he put forth a little effort. He tends to be overly protective, and cares a little too much for honor and glory." Eowyn smiled wryly. "And coming from me, that's saying something!"

            I was silent for a moment. Except for the bit about the conquests, and the manners, he sounded…disturbingly perfect. I eyed Eowyn. "There must be a catch."

            "The catch, my dear cousin, is that no matter how nice someone might seem, nothing on this earth can predict whether you will feel any attracting for them or not. The only way you will be able to tell if you might make a successful marriage with my brother is to meet him for yourself." She stood up and headed back towards the warden's office. Before reaching the door, she turned with a swish of skirts to face me again.

            "Would you like to have an adventure?"

            I tilted my head to the side. "What?"

            "I have a rather shocking idea. I'll come to your room tonight and discuss it with you." With that, Eowyn left.

            I stood alone there in the hallway for some time, thinking about my future, until I was interrupted by a harried summons to come to father's council room.

            As soon as I entered, I knew.

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**Me:** OK, cryptic, I know. My beginnings are always awkward…this will get more interesting as it goes along. Promise! Now REVIEW! :D


	2. Unexpected News

**Author:** Thanks for all the reviews! I love you guys, I really do. Now go write wonderful stories that I can read all summer. Finals are over now, so vacation is officially upon me!! Except for upcoming summer required reading…gag.

And did no one besides Lady Scribe of Avandell and me think that Brad Pitt looked EXACTLY like Eomer should (not that Karl Urban didn't kick butt, but anyway) in Troy?

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All four of them were sitting in Father's office. My brothers and father would no doubt have every minute of my life planned out through the next decade—or beyond. I immediately resigned myself to an evening of advice and lecturing.

Elphir and Elchirion were standing in front of the tall windows, arms crossed defensively. Amrothos was lounging against the mantelpiece nursing a glass of wine and gazing pensively into the fire. From their faces I could tell they did not expect me to like whatever it was they were going to tell me. Surely marriage to Eomer wouldn't be _that_ bad!

"Ah, Lothiriel, good. Sit down here; we want to talk to you." No sooner was I perched on father's uncomfortable office bench than he stroked his graying beard and cleared his throat in anticipation of a speech. "Now, Lothiriel. You're nearly 21 years old now—a woman grown. We love you dearly, but your brothers and I agree it's time you were settled down in a home of your own. You know how I feel about marriage, and as a member of the ruling house of Dol Amroth, it is your duty, and I would hope you will consider it an honor to serve your country so, to make a match that will strengthen the stability of our city." Father stopped to clear his throat again. I nodded. Nothing had surprised me so far.

"I'm glad you're going to be cooperative. Ahem. Therefore, "Father appeared to be starting in on a stately declaration of intent, but broke off with a sigh and blurted out, "Oh, blast it all. You're going to marry Lord Kuthiea of Harad."

I wish I had had a mirror with me, because I'm sure the look on my face was priceless. Kuthiea, the ambassador of the Haradrim to Gondor, was a staid, dull politician. He wasn't bad looking, having the typical darkened appearance of the Haradrim, he didn't over drink, he didn't seduce maids (that I'd ever heard of), and he wasn't unintelligent. It should have been a perfect choice: perfectly logical, perfectly feasible, and perfectly acceptable. But for some reason, my heart sank. Kuthiea was just so….boring.

I tried to maintain my composure. "Well, uh…Kuthiea? I suppose I should have expected that but…" I searched for a way to ask the question that was eating at my mind delicately. "Somehow I was under the impression that you were considering a betrothal to Eomer of Rohan."

Father eyed me. "You've never met King Eomer, have you? How could you want to marry him?"

I blushed. "I never said that. I had simply received the idea, somehow, that you had sent a delegation to Rohan regarding a state marriage."

Father stood and walked to the fireplace. Nudging Amrothos aside, he poured himself a glass of wine from the silver pitcher resting on the mantelpiece. He took a sip then turned back to me.

"We did consider Eomer. In fact, he was my first choice. A fine young man, he is, and would make you the perfect husband. Unfortunately, the Rohirrim have informed me that King Eomer does not approve of arranged marriages, so we moved on to the next best candidate."

I was confused. "Why…excuse me, Father, but why are you so intent on marrying me off all of a sudden? It seems as though this topic has come up rather abruptly."

Father sighed yet again and came to sit next to me. He gently took my hands and looked at me.

"There are beginning to be rumors, Lothiriel. Your brothers have tried to staunch them, but they persist, as rumors will. The people of the city fear that their princess will be an old maid."

"An old maid? Eru above, I'm only 20!" I would be 21 in a month, but no matter that. Wrenching my hands from father's grip I stood and went to Amrothos. "You knew this? And yet you did not tell me!"

My youngest brother looked exasperated. "Ria, you should have known this would happen. It is tradition for the women of our family to be married by their 21st year, and you have yet to find yourself a husband. You refuse to choose a man you wish to marry, so you left us no choice but to choose one for you."

"Yes, but I had hoped you would select someone more…well, less boring, anyway! I've never had a conversation with Lord Kuthiea that lasted more than two minutes! All for the sake of gossip!" I turned to Elchirion and Elphir for help but they were not forthcoming.

"I will not watch you become the stuff of a scandal! If you want someone more interesting than Kuthiea then I suggest you find him, and fast." With that, Father turned and marched out of the room. I sulked for a moment while my brothers offered half-hearted reassurances like 'sometimes less is more' and 'steady as a rock is better than violent as the sea'. Finally, I snapped,

"Oh, shut up, the lot of you," and left. I wandered the halls of my home for hours, staring up at the portraits of the brave ladies I was descended from. Surely there was more in my destiny than a dull, sober diplomat? I had told Eowyn that I would accept an arranged marriage, and I would…as long as I approved of it, too. My heart rejected the ambassador, while my head said that I should obey my father and make the best of it.

I went tiredly to my rooms to contemplate the situation. Somehow, the blue and silver décor didn't soothe me as it usually did. Flopping down on my bed, I hugged a swan-shaped white pillow to my chest and ran through the list of other possible suitors. I could only think of one word that described them all: boring. I drifted off to sleep.

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"Lothiriel! Wake up, dear; you fell asleep in your clothes."

I sat straight up and peered through the darkness at the person who was gently shaking my shoulder. It was Eowyn. When she saw me yawn and open my eyes, she stepped back to light the candles on my bedside table, then lit the lamps around the room.

"Now, you're no doubt wondering about this adventure I mentioned. I'm not really sure it qualifies as an 'adventure' exactly, but it would certainly be a change of pace and scenery for you. Are you interested?"

I nodded vehemently. Why not enjoy a daring escapade while I still could? I could look back and remember it after I was married and cloistered in the city for the rest of my life. Eowyn sat on the edge of my bed and fiddled with the silver fringe of the coverlet while she explained.

"I'm sending some of the servants that accompanied Faramir and I here home tomorrow. To Rohan. And I thought that if you posed as one of them you would have the perfect opportunity to observe Eomer and see if he meets with your approval before you have to marry him! All of them are most loyal, and they won't breathe a word of your subterfuge to anyone. What do you think?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I wasn't going to marry Eomer, that I was engaged to the oh-so-average Kuthiea, and that I had no reason to go to Rohan. As I was about to confess, however, I stopped myself. An adventure was an adventure, after all, and I hadn't had any of them in my nearly-21 years. If I told Eowyn, she might withdraw her invitation.

"I would love to! How can I get out of the city without Father knowing about it?"

Eowyn smiled at me warmly and I was struck by the thought that if I'd had a sister, this is what it would have been like.

"Just wait," she said mischievously, "I have it all planned out…"


	3. Departure

**AN:** Wow. There's nothing like watching the last five minutes of "She's All That" to get you all romanticized. So that, coupled with the fact that I just read over chapter two and realized how incredibly short my updates are, has inspired me to sit down and start on chapter three when I should be sleeping.

I also have been perusing FF.net and noticed that some stories have over FIVE HUNDRED reviews. Jeez! Who do I have to pay to get that kind of response? ;)

JK, guys! I love you all, and I couldn't ask for more. Although I guess I am…

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            "Well? How does it look?"

            "Perfect. Now just hunch over a little bit, and don't make eye contact with anyone until you're outside of the city."

            I was huddled in a small pantry off the main kitchen building of the palace. Eowyn and I stood amidst smoked hams and barrels of flour, adjusting my disguise. A rough wool tunic, dyed an ugly dirt-brown color, covered me from chin to knee. Green leggings were worn underneath. My hair was carefully pinned up under a gigantic, lopsided hat, and a weather-beaten cloak and hood went over all. If I stooped just so, the hood and hat shadowed my face enough as to be unrecognizable to those who knew me.

            Eowyn picked up a small pack and shoved it into my arms. "Here, I've packed some changes of clothes, money, and a little food. There's a dagger in case of emergency, but you should be safe enough on the road." She carefully drew something out of the pouch at her belt. "And this," she said, handing it to me, "Is a letter I've prepared. Give this to Eomer if anything happens—anything at all—and you feel you need to come home, or someone needs to know who you really are."

            I took the scroll and tucked it safely away. "Only in utmost need will I present it to your brother. He will hate me for sure, and most likely throw me to the wolves, if he finds out of my charade."

            Eowyn grinned wryly, her teeth glinting in the darkness. "Oh, somehow I think he'll be much angrier at me than he will be at you. Now listen: the servants are leaving in a few minutes. You are to meet them at the stables. You will then proceed on horseback to Rohan. The journey may take a few weeks, but it will not be overly tiresome. When you reach Edoras, Calla will help you find work…either in the stables or in the house. Whatever you want. Once you arrive, you can do whatever you feel is necessary to gain a clear perspective of what your life would be like if you married my brother."

            Guilt crept along my spine. Eowyn was trying hard to help me—indeed, she was taking a great risk herself. If it was discovered that she had aided in a princess's attempt to run away (even if I did mean to come back), she would be ostracized and perhaps even punished. That possibility, however, was not as daunting to me as the likelihood that she would be angry with me when she found out I had not told her of my father's change in my marital plans.

            "I have a feeling I'm going to regret this. But thank you for everything, Eowyn. I hope I will have a true adventure…something to look back on later, when the tedium of married life begins to gnaw at me." I started to leave, then stopped and hugged the woman who had been such a friend to me. I allowed myself a moment to envy her soft, fine dress and freely flowing hair, then broke off. "Well, this is it."  Taking a deep breath, I jauntily tipped my cap at Eowyn and stepped out into the kitchen.

            Where I promptly ran into a pair of guards.

            "What's this? Hey, boy, what're you doing here this time of morning? The bakers aren't even up yet!" A shortish man wearing the white and blue garb of a common street guard appraised me suspiciously. Oily blonde hair flopped over his face. He had the puffed-up demeanor of a man who imagines himself to be infinitely more important than he actually is. Princess Lothiriel would have commanded him and his friend to leave…but what would a servant boy do?

            "I might ask you the same thing." The words sprang from my lips almost before I thought them. I noted with satisfaction that I had disguised my upper-class accent quite well. My elation was short-lived, however. I found myself shoved roughly into the wall by the guard's equally unpleasant-looking companion.

            "Easy there, urchin. Di'in't no one ever teach you to respect your betters?"

            "If I see any, I will."

            This time, I saw the blow coming and dodged it. Scampering out underneath the blonde guard's extended fist, I made a break for the door.

            "'ay, you! Come back 'ere!"

            _Not likely._ I thought. Goodness, what kind of bullies was my father employing? Making a mental note to write him an anonymous letter as soon as possible discussion the matter, I ducked down a dark hallway. One passage led to another, and eventually I was outside near the stables. It was so early that the sunrise wasn't even beginning to show on the horizon. Four horses stood next to the river, pawning the ground next to three lumpy shapes that turned out to be humans swathed in thick traveling clothes.

            Panting, I drew up next to the nearest person. "H—he—hello. Er, I'm….Rial. Lady Eowyn sent me to accompany you…" If my fellow travelers knew who I really was, they gave no indication of it.

            "You're late, Rial. I'm Calla. This is Yasni, your mount. Take good care of her and she'll take good care of you." Calla and the other two people swung up onto their horses, so I followed suit. "That tall fellow there is Easa, finest groom in Rohan. And Jeb," she gestured to a younger man about my own age, "is simply a stable lad. I," she added proudly, "was Lady Eowyn's personal maid for a time. She is kindly releasing us from her service to return to our own families. You, I understand, are wanting to see Rohan?"

            I nodded, then realized she probably couldn't see in the darkness, so I said yes. Calla made a sound halfway between a grunt and a snort.

            "Well, you'd better be prepared to do your part, then. We've no use for slackers and laziness in our country." With that she kicked her horse into motion and we set out.

            It was a chilly night, even in summer, and I was glad for my thick cloak. The stars hung overhead, pinpricks in the black banner that was the sky. Not for the first time, I wondered what lay beyond that expanse of dark beauty, and whether I would even know any of its mysteries. Would the stars look different in Rohan? Would I have my adventure, or would I merely while away a few weeks mucking out stables, and return in disgrace and shame to a mediocre marriage in Dol Amroth?

            In a short time, we were outside of the city, and I relaxed somewhat. My brothers would soon find me missing, but it might be days before they thought to start looking beyond the city limits, and by then we would hopefully be far away. I had no desire to be dragged back any sooner than I had to be. Our pace was steady and comfortable, but still quick. We would make good time. The clip-clop of Yasni's hooves on the hard-packed road soon lulled me into a semi-dreamland, and I began imagining what sort of life I would pursue in Rohan.

            I wanted something daring and adventuresome. Perhaps I could learn archery and sword fighting from someone! Surely there was a good teacher around who would be willing to show me the ropes for a small fee. In the meantime I could do odd jobs, or perhaps gain steady employment at the castle (did Edoras have a castle?) somewhere. I knew that our palace was constantly hiring and firing boys for menial work, no doubt Rohan utilized the same system.

            This brought me up to the problem of hiding my identity. In the dark I could pass for a male, and perhaps if no one looked too closely, and I was allowed to keep my hat and loose clothing on, I could escape detection in the daytime as well. If the other servant wouldn't turn a blind eye, I was in trouble….but evidently Eowyn expected them to help me out in that department, or she wouldn't have dressed me so! Even now my leggings were beginning to chafe. I wasn't used to such rough garments.

            Eventually the sun rose above the mountains and the day heated up. Around midday we stopped for a bit of rest and lunch, during which time I learned a bit more about my fellow riders. Easa was indeed the finest groom in Rohan: he had been in charge of the King's stables, and had traveled with lady Eowyn after her marriage to lend his expertise to aid Faramir and her in setting up their own. Jeb was a mere stable-boy, true, but he had great plans for his future. He was planning on joining the standing army when he returned to Rohan, and hoped to work his way up to a position of responsibility and importance. He seemed smart enough, and I liked him right away. Calla had no doubts about her abilities. She was a self-proclaimed 'magnificent ladies' maid', though she admitted to being a bit put out at Eowyn's apparent ease of managing without her. Still, she had a mother and father and long-time fiancé waiting for her at home, and had eagerly accepted the opportunity to return to them.


	4. Arrival

AN: Well, here I am again, struggling desperately against writer's block. I know the only way to get beyond it is to just sit down and force myself to write something- anything!- but it's difficult. This story _should_ get more interesting once they reach Rohan, but I have a couple things to do before I get that far, so here goes. Reviewers…you guys are the BEST! I LOVE you! Ice cream to all, and I'll give you chocolate syrup if you review this chapter, too. Please? ;)

Oh, and another note: I have absolute no idea how long it takes to ride a horse from Dol Amroth to Edoras, but we're gonna say it can be done in a couple weeks, OK? OK.

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The Swanguard overtook us on our 12th day of travel. My father's most highly acclaimed soldiers came galloping up behind us as though their lives depended on it, getting dust all over their elegant blue and silver livery. When they were close enough that I could see who they were, I began to panic. What if they found me out? I could not let that happen! I looked nervously at Calla, but she showed no outward emotion except annoyance.

We halted our horses on the side of the road. The Guard soon caught up, forming a circle around our small party. There were about 10 of them, all looking grouchy and tired, but thankfully, none were familiar to me.

"Who is it that accosts an innocent band of travelers in their own country?" Calla demanded haughtily, for we had crossed into Rohan that morning and were due to arrive at Edoras the next day. "You are not soldiers of Rohan."

"I am Captain Tashos of the Swanguard of Dol Amroth. I have leave from my lord Elessar, the King of Gondor, to search any suspicious parties in his kingdom that I have just cause to believe might be harboring the kidnappers of Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth." The leader of the soldiers spoke and nudged his horse forward a step to face Calla squarely. He had a large crest of white feathers on his helmet.

"But this is not his kingdom. This land belongs to Eomer King of Rohan. You have no right to hinder us" Calla snapped.

Captain Tashos glared at her. "Choose your words wisely, woman. Would an innocent protest as much as you are? I ask only to look upon your faces and assuage my conscience that you are no vagrants."

Calla was silent for a moment. "Very well. You outnumber us, so it appears we have no choice. But rest assured, if you harm us the news will reach Edoras swiftly. Boys, move the horses into a line so the _good Captain_ can see that we are no kidnappers of Princesses."

At that moment, I thought my adventure had come to an end before it had really begun. Calla sat calmly on her mount next to me, with Easa on my other side and Jeb after him. Yasni felt my anxiety and pranced a bit. I tried to quiet her, and an idea occurred to me. The soldiers said they suspected a kidnapping, but no doubt they were also on the lookout for a runaway, who would presumably sulk and hide her head in the back. Summoning what little bravery I could, I leaned forward as Captain Tashos approached me.

"Please, honored Captain, Dol Amroth is my city also. I love the house of Imrahil…when was the Princess kidnapped? Who would dare do such a thing, and why?" Trying to pitch my voice as a young boy might, I leaned eagerly forward and looked Tashos straight in the eye. He started for a moment, then relaxed a bit and answered.

"Princess Lothiriel was noticed missing some ten days ago, when she failed to appear for a scheduled dinner with her fiancee. The Prince suspects a kidnapping, but has not yet received a ransom note." He stopped and glanced at Calla. "Your Rohirrim friends might be interested to know that the Lady Eowyn was particularly upset at the Princess' disappearance."

"Her fiancee? I did not know that there was to be a wedding!" This feigning of innocence could grow rapidly annoying, I thought.

Tashos sat back on his horse and chuckled, and I knew I had fooled him. "Yes, well, between you and me, I think the Princess wasn't kidnapped, but actually _ran away_ so she wouldn't have to marry the man her father has chosen for her! Can you believe it- it was just announced the day she disappeared- Princess Lothiriel is to marry Lord Kuthiea of Harad! OUR princess…married to one of those heathens from the South!"

I faked shock. The Captain nodded vehemently. "Oh, yes, it's true. To be fair, Kuthiea isn't a bad sort…But our Princess has some spirit in her, and will be wanting better than a groveling ambassador for a husband."

"Perhaps she will elope." I suggested wickedly. Calla looked at me pointedly, and I realized that I needed to end the conversation soon.

"So long as she elopes with someone more deserving of her than Kuthiea!"

"If you are done gossiping with our new stable-boy, may we go now, Captain?" Calla interjected.

"Oh, er, yes, certainly. I can see you're not hiding anything. I apologize for any inconvenience." Captain Tashos nodded at us and gave the signal for his men to ride off back towards Gondor.

Calla waited until they were mere specks in the distance, then curtly told Easa and Jeb to ride ahead. "I think it's best if we push through to Edoras tonight. The horses can take it, and I don't want to spend any more time on the road than we have to. You two go on ahead…I want to have a private word with Rial."

Fully expecting a lecture, I dropped back to ride next to the snippy ladies' maid. To my surprise, she was silent for a minute, then spoke kindly but sternly.

"I think you had better drop the 'young boy' disguise. It's all right for the road, where no one's looking that closely, but once we get to Edoras people won't fall for it for long. Good job of hiding in plain sight back there, by the way. It was well done to distract the captain like that."

"Uh…thank you. Do the others know who I am?"

"Probably. But don't worry, they won't tell anyone. Easa hardly talks and Jeb is as faithful as an old hound. Now then, when we reach the King's city tonight, I've got to know what to do with you. What can you do?" Calla looked at me inquiringly, and I realized that she was not that much older that me. Mayhap we could be friends someday.

"Well, I know there's probably always need for stable lads, but if I'm to be a girl that won't work out too well. I can sew, and sing, and cook a bit. And I can speak four languages, including yours." I said the last part in Rohirric, attempting to show off.

Calla grinned finally. "Your accent is horrible, but I can at least understand you. How well can you cook? The King's kitchen is always in need of a hand, and in your spare time you could probably get seamstress work."

I nodded absently. I'd always liked loitering in the palace's kitchens at home. They were always busy, of course, and hot, but everyone always looked like they were having a good time. I had learned quite a few recipes from our head chef. "That sounds lovely. Thank you, Calla. For everything."

We looked at each other for a moment, then hastened to catch up with Jeb and Easa.

It was nearing midnight when we reached the Golden Hall, but there were still many torches lit. I said an excited goodbye to Jeb as he left for his family's home on the outskirts of the town, and to Easa at the royal stables.

"I've grown fond of you, girl. Come and see me if you ever need a good horse." Easa patted my back and went on his way.

We had stopped for a few moments outside of Edoras while I changed into a dress. It was the plainest that I owned, but still much finer than most servants' garb. If anyone asked, I would use it as proof of my excellent sewing ability. What a relief to be wearing soft cloth again! My hair I knotted up under a kerchief to keep anyone from noticing it. Dark reddish brown would not blend in well in Rohan.

Calla and I climbed the steps to Meduseld wearily, for it had been a long day. My body was tired, but my mind was leaping with excitement. Finally, I was here! In Rohan, where, if Eowyn's stories were to be believed, every day brought a new adventure.

"Calla? Is that you, sweet?" A man's overjoyed voice reached us just before his large, mail-clad body bounded away from the great double doors and enveloped Calla in a tight embrace. "We didn't think you'd return so soon! Let me look at you." The soldier released her and stepped back.

"Aye, it's me all right." Calla's voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. "I've missed you, Seith."

"Not so much as I have missed you, Calla."

I cleared my throat and Calla blushed, I think, thought it was dark and I couldn't be sure.

"Ria, this is my fiancee Seith. Seith, I've brought Ria from Dol Amroth. She wants to work in the kitchens or as a seamstress in the King's household, being equally talented in both areas, or so I'm told." Seith bowed politely over my hand, but I could tell he wanted time alone to say a proper hello to Calla.

"Calla, I think I'll just take a walk around the Hall a bit. Is it safe enough?"

She nodded absently, and I made a hasty exit around the corner. It was clear that some sort of feast or festival had just let out, for there were still small groups of people stumbling home. I walked to the far side of the Hall, which was larger than it appeared from a distance, and found that the back doors- also large, double gold-decorated ones- had been thrown open to the cool night air. I peered inside to see several thick pillars scattered around a giant room, all carved and decorated with hunting scenes and other stories. The floor was tiled in an intricate design, but I couldn't tell what it was from my vantagepoint. Dozens of tables were set about the hall, with chairs and benches everywhere. Only a few people were still inside. They must have known each other, because they were all seated around the same long table, sipping mugs of ale and alternating between quiet conversation and hearty laughter. One of the men caught my attention.

He was blonde- they were all blonde- but his hair was a particularly golden shade of yellow. Gold enough to rival the metal bands criss-crossing every pillar in the room. Though he was seated, I could tell that he would be quite tall when standing, and broad-shouldered. He had a light beard and mustache that made him appear as though he simply hadn't bothered to shave in a week, yet even from across the hall I could tell he was clean and well groomed. He had a straight nose and wide cheekbones , with generous lips and a high forehead. Oh yes, he was a sight to look at, but that wasn't what drew my gaze. It was his air of calm assurance, of quiet command. He was superior, physically speaking, to the other men around the table, yet it did not burden him with awkward knowledge, he merely accepted it . I got the impression that he could switch from easy camaraderie to military alertness and supremacy within seconds. I wondered who he was. Then I noticed the thick gold band around his forehead, and the sparkling green gem resting between his eyebrows, and I knew.

This, then, was Eomer.


	5. In Which the Author Frantically Tries to...

AN: I need to go to bed…But aside from that: Am I the youngest person in the world to be addicted to romance novels? Really. I need help.

He felt me staring at him. Withdrawing his attention from the others around the table, he focused his gaze upon me. I nearly melted…such eyes! Deep, deep brown, like the exotic drink I had tried once called _chaokolatt_. Smooth and dark, but with a light in them that rivaled the sun. They froze me to the ground, those eyes. I was riveted. I could not move, I could not breathe, I could only stand and wait for him to release me.

"It looks as though we have company, men." Eomer said quietly. I could barely hear him from the door. His voice was low, and a little rough, but pleasantly so.

Goodness, listen to me! I sound like a besotted maid…but then, that's what I was.

Eomer called out from the table as his companions grew quiet. "I know all the faces that inhabit this town, yet yours is strange to me. What is your name, girl?"

His brisk tone broke the spell his eyes had placed upon me, and I realized where I was, and what I was doing. Now I had to make a good impression or I would be sent away. I curtsied excellently, then straightened my back.

"My name is Ria, my lord. I am looking for work and was told that the King's household might be in need of a cook or seamstress. We only just arrived."

The man sitting to Eomer's left spoke up. "Strange…from your demeanor I would have pegged you to be a noblewoman rather than a peasant. Still," he rose and came towards me, "We do indeed have need of someone who can make fine clothing for grand occasions. My name is Halathain, and I am the steward of the Hall. I will show you to quarters where you can rest, and we will discuss your position in the morning. Come." Halathain led me out a smaller door into a torch-lit passageway. He was a middle-aged man of medium height, with a reddish-yellow beard and slightly thinning hair. Pleasant laugh lines surrounded his eyes. As I stepped through the door, I stole a glance over my shoulder. Eomer was still watching me, with a puzzled look on his face. I quickly whipped back around.

The room I was given was small and sparse, but clean. There was a high window to let in light, a small nightstand by a small bed, and a row of hooks in the wall for hanging clothes. The walls were painted a clean white, and rushes were scattered on the floor. The first thing I did after Halathain left me was to take Eowyn's scroll out of my cloak pocket and hide it under the mattress of the bed. It would be slightly crushed, no doubt, but at least I couldn't lose it there. Next, I unpacked my spare dress, another plain garment that was nevertheless conspicuously fine for a servant, and hung it up. With relief I stepped out of my low boots and kicked them against a wall. I undressed tiredly and fell onto the bed. The last thing I thought of before sleep claimed me was a pair of dark brown eyes.

* * *

"Ria! Wake up, Ria."

I opened my eyes to find the room barely lighter than it had been when I'd fallen asleep. Sitting up slightly, I recognized Calla bending over me shaking my arm. Though it was still dark, I could see that she looked excited.

"Good morning, I think."

"The sun will rise soon. We must report to Halathain, the Hall Steward before then for our assignments." Calla grasped my arms and pulled me upright, then tossed me my plain gray silk dress.

I hurriedly pulled it on. "I should have told you where I was staying the night, Calla. I'm sorry…I hope I wasn't any trouble to find?"

Calla snorted and began doing up my buttons for me. "Nay, no trouble at all, Ria. Within an hour of your arrival at Meduseld, I daresay, the entire household was abuzz with rumors of the beautiful young seamstress with eyes like the sky after a storm who walks with all the dignity of a queen. Or should I say princess?"

"Shh!"

She laughed and began pulling a comb through my tangled hair. Calla was indeed an excellent ladies' maid: I hardly felt any discomfort as she worked through the mess. "Don't worry. I don't think word has yet reached Rohan of the runaway princess of Dol Amroth, but don't hold your breath. Gossip spreads quicker than plague, and I'm sure we'll be hearing talk soon. In the meantime," she whipped my kerchief and tied it expertly over my now-bound-up hair. "Keep your locks hidden. Nobody around here has ever seen hair this color, and that's the first thing they'll talk of, if given the chance."

"What is it about my hair? I know that most Rohirrim are blondes, but surely you've seen brown-haired people before…" I crossed my arms and looked at Calla in askance. She chuckled.

"It's not just brown, and you know it. It's dark red, like fine polished cherry wood. Don't think people won't notice! If any of that Swanguard bring a message here, they'll give a description of you for sure." I grimaced, which Calla seemed to find quite amusing, as she was laughing while she led me out the door, down the hallway to an attached outbuilding that turned out to be the kitchen.

The cooks had already been up for hours, and the smell of baking bread and sweet rolls permeated the air. I breathed deeply and sighed. All around me were the familiar chaotic sights of a palace kitchen: panicking sous-chefs, kitchen-boys filching bits from the counters, and the ubiquitous domineering head cook. A gigantic pot of something that looked like porridge and smelled like cinnamon was simmering over the hearth-fire. Next to it stood Halathain, giving out the day's assignments to a dozen or so people who were all nibbling at various bits of breakfast and nodding absently in reaction to his orders. Calla and I walked over to join them.

"Ah, our newest member has arrived. Everyone, this is Ria. I believe most of you remember Calla?" Halathain paused for excited welcomes and squeals of recognition as Calla was greeted by old acquaintances. I received a mixture of stares and genuinely pleasant smiles. "Now, then, Ria. I'll give you a brief overview of what to expect here."

Halathain proceeded to explain that though I was a servant, I was a seamstress and therefore had a higher status in the household than, say, a chambermaid. Breakfast would be provided every morning in the kitchen, and then Halathain would relate any changes in schedule, special announcements, or extra tasks that needed to be done. I would receive my room and board in return for doing the mending of those that resided in the Hall and couldn't- or didn't want to- do it themselves. Calla would be helping me with that as well as fulfilling her duties as Chief Housekeeper (a position that, I could tell, tickled her to no end. She positively _preened_ when Halathain mentioned it.). In addition, I would receive bonuses for according to the quality and prompt completion of any special requests made by the King. All others would pay me standard fees for clothing they ordered. I was free to take on other work in my spare time, so long as I completed my required sewing first. I also learned that servants were considered members of the Household and were allowed to eat in the Hall with the King's Guard, members of counsel, and all residents of Meduseld if they so choose. The lesser cooks and the servers rotated their schedules so as to allow for this.

By that time, most of the others had left to begin their day. I was escorted back to my room, where a large heap of torn clothing had been deposited, and presented with the basket of sewing essentials that the previous seamstress had left behind.

"Goodness, Calla! Will there always be this much mending? I'll never get anything else done!"

"No, I suspect not. Most of the men have wives to do their sewing, and it's been a few weeks since the last girl left, so things have piled up. I'm off to oversee dinner and make sure the maids aren't slacking off. I'll come back and check on you this afternoon…and force you to sit and listen to my wedding plans!" Calla bustled out, grinning gleefully, and I settled down to stitch.

The basket was well equipped with the basics- needles, plain linen thread, shears- but lacked the necessities for any artistic work. Still, at the moment I was only patching up ripped breeches, for the most part, and replacing buttons, so it would most likely do. The morning crept by and the sun rose higher and higher, filling my room with bright light that did not help keep my thoughts from wandering back to the distracting King of Rohan. Just as I was about to put away the last shirt that was no longer missing a button, Calla stuck her head in the door and grinned positively evilly. I was instantly on my guard.

"What is it, Calla?" I asked cautiously. She giggled, which surprised me. Somehow Calla did not seem the type for giggling.

"Halathain and I have decided that Eomer King will need a new tunic and fine robe for the feast in ten days. Can you complete one by then?"

"What sort of robe? Simple, every-day or grand and completely opulent?"

"The grander the better. There are going to be several foreigners visiting, all of whom will need to be impressed."

I nodded absently. Already images were flitting through my mind of the perfect outfit. It would showcase both the traditional styles of the Rohirrim and the current lean toward Elvish clothing, and if done right, would add a certain element of sophistication to the King. Not to mention he would look beyond handsome in it. But could I finish it in ten days?

"Good!" Calla said. "Be in the King's study in fifteen minutes to get his measurements." She ducked out of the room as suddenly as she had entered it.

Measurements?

* * *

Measurements.

Meaning I had to wrap my knotted length of string around various parts of the King of Rohan's anatomy while he rattled off answers to questions all sorts of people kept walking into the room to ask him. He wouldn't hold still, either. Finally there was a lull in the visitors, and Eomer appeared to notice me for the first time.

"Aren't you finished yet?"

Eowyn was right about his manners. "I would have been, if you hadn't been wiggling the whole time. Now please hold still." Desperately trying to ignore the pulse that was pounding rapidly throughout my body, I pulled my cord around Eomer's waist and noted its length. He raised his eyebrows.

"Where do you hail from, girl? Ria, isn't it? Your accent is not Rohirric."

"Extend your arms." I measured them as I answered. "From a southern city of Gondor."

"What brings you so far from home?"

Now for his chest. Impressive. I debated what to tell him and settled on the truth. "My father is arranging a suitable marriage for me, but I decided I wanted to have a bit of an adventure, first. I will return home eventually."

"Ah, so I will not have the pleasure of being ordered around by you permanently?" He crossed his arms and contemplated me as I coiled my yarn.

"Have I been ordering you? I suppose I should apologize, shouldn't I. You are a king, after all, and I am a mere seamstress." There was a glint in his eyes that gave up his amusement.

"Somehow I do not think you are a mere seamstress."

My hands froze and I stared at the ground. What did he mean? Fear gripped me for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"

"No seamstress would have marched into a grand Hall and demanded employment the way you did. Nor would any seamstress have stood with enough pride dripping off her to rival a queen. No woman raised to be a servant would have ordered the King of Rohan to hold still. Nay, there is more to you than that. What is it?" Eomer's eyes found mine and once again their depths paralyzed me. He took a step towards me and I felt myself drawn to lean forward. I opened my mouth to speak, though I know not what I would have said if Halathain hadn't cleared his throat in the doorway.

"Sir? My Lord, the Guard is ready to move out."

Eomer's eyes stayed on me as he told Halathain that he would be outside in a moment. When the steward left, he spoke.

"Keep your secret for now. I will puzzle it out later, have no doubt." He winked at me and left. Winked! At me!

Suddenly the study seemed uncomfortably warm. I fled to the stables.


	6. Flowers

Author: Once again, I should be sleeping. But for some reason, I'm lighting candles and preparing to write goodness-knows-what at 11:30 PM. You'd think I'd get sick of this story, since it has roused the least reader-interest of all mine so far, and I have no idea how to fill the chapters till _**IT**_ happens…but I don't. It's simply too much fun! :)

Request: I have ten days' worth of story to fill, and during that time I have to throw Eomer and Lothiriel together enough to make them fall in love. I would really appreciate your ideas for ways to make this happen…I won't guarantee that I'll use them, but one idea often sparks another. I need your help! Prays to the review-gods

* * *

I found Easa in the stables brushing the mane of a very fine-looking black mare. He smiled in greeting, so I walked into the stall and leaned against the wall while my heart gradually slowed down. Through the door of the barn I watched a small band of ten or so riders, Eomer at their head, depart northwards.

"And what do you think of our country so far, my Lady?" Easa's voice was the low, soft tone of a man used to placating animals with it, but I winced at the title.

"Please don't call me that, Easa."

"'Tis what you are, Lady."

"Not here. Here I'm just-" There didn't seem to be any point denying my true identity to the wise old horsemaster. "Ria, the new seamstress. Though I'm not doing a very good job of convincing people of it."

Easa chuckled. "Covering up a quarter-century of living? Yes, I imagine that would be difficult."

"Not even that long."

"How old are you, then?" Easa threw down the comb he was using and picked up a small, flat brush. He began smoothing the horse's coat gently.

"I'll be twenty-one in 2 weeks."

His bright green eyes studied me from beneath thick gray brows. "You seem older."

"I try to be practical and sensible whenever possible. I think coming here is the only risky thing I've ever done." I softly stroked the mare's face and stared into her shining eyes.

"Now that's a shame." I looked up at him.

"A shame? Why? I'm only trying to be down-to-earth and responsible…"

"Yes, that's all well and good, princess, until you get to be my age. You're going to look back on your life and see nothing but a flat plain, no mountains or rivers to make the landscape interesting." Easa picked up the richly tooled saddle hanging on the wall and buckled it expertly onto the mare, then reached for her bridle.

"But it's safe," I countered defensively.

Easa smiled wisely. "So are many things that are also enjoyable. For instance," He slipped the bridle over the mare's head and patted her neck. "I'll wager a thousand marks that you've never been for a ride by yourself before. Alone, I mean, with no guard alongside you." Leading us both out of the stall, Easa handed me the horse's reins.

I stared at his proffered hand. What if I got lost? I didn't know the countryside, anything could happen! Bandits, a sudden storm, I might be thrown and break a leg…

"Come now," the old man said gently, "You didn't come to Rohan just to sit around and sew, did you?" Our eyes met, and I grabbed the reins.

Several hours later I was windblown, sunburned, and hopelessly lost. My hair was falling out from its kerchief, I was hungry, and I had never been happier in my life.

Somehow I had found my way into valley completely carpeted with wildflowers. Sunflowers abounded, but there were daisies, marigolds, and dozens of other brightly-hued flora that I couldn't name scattered everywhere. The thick green grass and some of the petals came as high as my waist, in places, and I sat in their midst and let the clouds pass over my head. The mare stood nearby, eating the scenery. It was blessedly desolate. I had spent the day appreciating the beauty around me and thinking of nothing weightier than which sweet-smelling flowers I should pick to dry and fold in with the mending. It was beautiful, this solitude. I felt my soul lift with the need to sing, so I did.

As the flowers love the sun,

So do I cherish you.

And as long as rivers run,

To our love I will be true.

In the golden days of yore,

There were no greater loves than mine.

And the maidens sweet that were

Can match their beauty not to thine.

The song was a common love ballad, but its mention of flowers seemed appropriate for the setting. I was about to launch into the second verse when a voice spoke over my shoulder.

"You sing beautifully."

I leapt to my feet and whipped around, drawing the knife that was secreted in my pocket. I had been even more lost in my reverie than I had thought, for I had not heard the approach of the ten armed, maliciously grinning Rohirrim that now appeared in front of me. Eomer, of course, was at their head, speaking to me and sporting the widest smile.

"However," With a lightning-quick flick of his wrist he removed the dagger from its position dangerously close to his throat, twirled it between his fingers, and presented it back to me, handle-first. "You are also apparently deaf, if you did not hear us until now."

I made a clumsy, half-hearted curtsy. "I was lost in thought, my Lord. To what, if I may ask, do I owe the honor of your arrival?"

"My men," The King gestured to the amused soldiers behind him. "were determined to find the sprite who sang so sweetly as we rode by. We rode to the top of that hill-" He pointed to a rise that no one who didn't live in a country mainly composed of flat grassland would ever call a hill. "And came to greet you when we realized the singer was no more than our very own seamstress, Ria."

"Oh. Well, now that your curiosity is satisfied, will you be going?"

"Nay, for it is not at all satisfied." My face fell, and Eomer's eyes glinted with interest. "What brings a young maid out on a ride alone, so far from her home? Where did you get that horse, for it is one of our finest? And what was the song that you were singing?"

I relaxed. At least he wasn't going to question me about my motives for staying in Rohan, then. "I wanted to explore the countryside, so I simply rode wherever my heart led me. The horse was lent to me by Easa, your head groom, if you must know. I wish I knew her name. And the song is a simple folk ballad, nothing special."

Eomer nodded absently. "Another question. I am paying you, am I not, to make something suitable to wear to a banquet with foreign nobles?"

"Yes…"

"Then why is it I do not see you sewing?"

I blushed furiously and bit my tongue. If he knew who I really was, he would not have dared to accuse me of shirking my responsibilities.

"For your information, _my lord_, I am unable to begin work on your costume because, frankly, I do not know what you want. You left before I could ask you this afternoon. Am I to stitch a long robe, or a tunic and leggings, or a fine jerkin and cloak? What colors do you prefer? How do you feel about embroidery? What foreign nobles, exactly, do you wish to impress?" Eomer opened his mouth to answer but I cut him off. "And even if I HAD the answers to these questions, horsemaster, I would not have the means to start work until tomorrow, because I would still have to go to market in the morning to buy materials. Materials I have not been given funds to acquire, I might add."

The King just stared at me, and I realized that my voice had risen by the end of my speech, that I was all but shouting at him, and that I was poking my forefinger furiously at his face to accent various points. Behind him, the soldiers stifled laughter.

Eomer cleared his throat. "We need to be heading back. You will accompany us, and I will tell you what you need to know on the way." He turned to mount his horse.

"Why?"

Eomer froze for a moment, then slowly faced me.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, 'why?" Why must I accompany you? There will be plenty of time to discuss things this evening. I had hoped to stay and watch the sunset."

"You will accompany me because I am King and I told you to. I told you to because it is 10 miles to Meduseld and if you stay much longer, you will not reach the Hall before dark. I will not have the rape of a woman on my conscience."

"I can take care of myself!"

He smiled sardonically. "The way you took care of me with your knife?"

I blushed. Again.

"Learn to protect yourself, Ria. Then you may go out whenever your duties permit you to. Until I say you are ready, however, you will not stray out of sight of the city, and you will not leave Meduseld's grounds after dark."

"Oh, so I must seek approval from you, personally? I would have thought you much too busy to deal with a mere seamstress." Sarcasm crept thickly into my words, for he had hurt my pride.

"You have no father or mother to look after you, and no other family, and you are living under my roof, so I feel responsible." Eomer slowly looked up and down, then continued. "And I will never be too busy for this seamstress."

My jaw dropped at his blatant innuendo. Before I could stop myself, I had drawn my arm back as far as I could and my open palm was flying towards Eomer's face. Just before it connected, he grabbed my hand out of the air and twisted my arm around my back. Suddenly my back was pressed up against his chest, both my arms pinned at my waist. One of his was latched around my stomach.

"See what I mean about protecting yourself?" He spoke just beside my ear, and I shivered. It was disgraceful, but I was still attracted to the man- a lot- even after his display of horrible manners.

"You deserve it." I tried to sound aloof and angry, but ended up with a sort of breathy, excited tone. Egad, how embarrassing!

"Undoubtedly." Eomer released me and swung up onto his fine mount. "When you have learned the proper way to attack someone, you may slap me twice in retaliation. I suggest you begin studying soon, before you anger fades."

I glared at his back and climbed up onto my mare. I really had to learn her name. The first half of the journey back to Edoras was passed in silence, save for quiet small talk amongst the soldiers. Then Eomer called me up to the front to ride next to him. To annoy him, I took my sweet time getting there.

"The people we will be hosting are the princes Elchirion and Amrothos of Dol Amroth. No doubt you know that city. Both men are my personal friends as well as significant nobles."

I turned to him in shock. My brothers? Here? What had I done to deserve this? I would have to leave, or they would discover me for certain.

"Accompanying them will be their ambassador from Harad and his family. They will not be here long—some sort of family wedding or something—but they will be returning south immediately after, and they wanted to see Rohan first, apparently."

I nearly fell off of my horse.

* * *

**Me Again:** OK, I know the song verse sucks. I was in a hurry...please review!


	7. Plans

Author's Obligatory Note: Thank you for all the suggestions! I appreciate them. Just wait till you see what I have planned…. Evil laughter. Actually, this is the first story where I think I might continue on beyond the 'declaration of love' (which you knew was coming anyway so I'm not spoiling anything for you, kinda like you know, if you've read The Appendices, that they're going to get married) to the wedding and maybe even after. Heh Heh Heh…I'm also thinking about changing the secondary category from 'Humor' to 'Action/Adventure'. I write with humor in mind, but it never really comes out. ANYWAY! Thanks for the reviews, everybody! It's the same five or six people, but that's OK. Popularity is overrated ;-)

Oh, and this may be my last update for a week or so. I'm off to Girls State (a.k.a. political boot camp) and I won't get back till late on the 11th.

* * *

"What did you say?"

Eomer looked at me strangely. "I said there was a family of Haradrim ambassadors coming with the princes of Dol Amroth to see Rohan. Why does that upset you?"

"Upset? Me? No, not at all. Why would I be upset?"

"Because your face is completely white, that's why."

I barely heard him. "Ten days…" I muttered. "Why did it have to be so soon?"

"Ria? What's wrong?" The gentle tone of Eomer's voice startled me back to normal. I looked over to see him staring at me with concern and worry in his eyes. Could it be that beneath the rough, rude exterior was a heart of gold?

"It's just…I can't tell you." Somehow my mouth would not let me lie to him, but neither could I tell him the truth. Eomer paused for a moment, then spoke softly.

"You said you hailed from a city in the South…are you in some kind of trouble that the nobility of Dol Amroth or Harad would recognize you? Would they punish you or send you home?"

I was silent. Eomer waited for a reply, then sighed.

"Very well. Keep your secret for another day." With that, he rode away from me.

The remainder of the ride passed all too swiftly, and we were soon dismounting outside the royal stables. It was dusk; a magnificent red sunset could be seen to the west. After returning my mare to Easa, I discovered that her name was Gwen, and that she was the second best of all the King's horses.

"She'd beat Wingfoot in a short race, no doubt about it. But there's only one horse in this world that could run longer than the King's own _meara_, and that's Shadowfax, the stallion that carries Gandalf the wizard."

I was puzzled. "Wingfoot? Why would the King name his horse something in the Common Tongue?"

Easa chuckled. "There's a story behind that, lass. See, three or four years ago, when Eomer was still Third Marshall, he came across a strange sight while on patrol. An Elf, a Man, and a Dwarf, all were racing across the plains to hunt a band or orcs. When the King learned how many leagues the man had run in three days, he was so amazed that he named him 'Wingfoot'. Later turned out that the man was Elessar of Gondor himself, only he weren't king yet, either. So when Eomer King acquired his beautiful steed there, and saw how much endurance and speed he had, he laughed and called the horse Wingfoot, too. Much to the amusement of the King of Gondor, I'm told."

I frowned. "The King asked me where I had gotten the horse, but did not tell me any of this when I said I didn't know anything about her."

"'Tis not in our King's nature to offer more information about himself or anything than anyone needs to know to get by."

"So I've noticed." I grumbled. Eomer still hadn't given me adequate information about his tunic/robe/who-knew-what for the banquet. At this point, he was going to have to take what I was going to give him. Which, if I managed to pull off what I was planning, would be magnificent.

After I left the stables, I sought out Jeb in the soldiers' quarters. As a newly enlisted Rider, he was stationed in the very last row of the barracks that were provided for unmarried men who did not wish to stay in their parents' homes. Unfortunately for me, this meant I had to walk through a hundred yards' worth of whistling, jeering soldiers in order to visit him. I held my head high and ignored all the comments and offers I received, very glad that my hair was still completely covered.

I pulled Jeb away from the card game he was losing to speak with him.

"Jeb! I wonder if you could do something for me."

"Nice to see you, too, Ria." He glanced longingly at the poker table, sighed and turned back to me. "What is it that you need?"

"Teach me to fight."

Jeb blinked. Twice. Then he started laughing. "Ria, why on earth do you want to know how to fight? You probably have bodyg—"

"Jeb!"

"Oh, uh…sorry Ria."

"I _need_ to learn how to fight because your King won't let me leave the city until I can defend myself. And," I glared at no one in particular, "I owe Eomer a very painful slap across the face."

Jeb gaped. "You're going to attack the _King_? Good luck with that."

"You make it sound like I want to kill the man, which I don't. He was rude to me, that's all. Very rude."

"Mm-hmm." Jeb looked skeptical. "Well, either way, you won't have much success unless you learn from the best, and that means Eomer King himself. He holds practices with the younger soldiers each afternoon for a few hours to help train us. If you come to those for awhile, and show a bit of talent, you might be able to slip past his guard enough to slap him once."

"Twice."

"Whatever."

"All right. I'll be there."

* * *

As I helped serve dinner in the Hall that night, I was treated to the disgusting sight of a buxom blonde woman throwing herself at the King the entire evening. She was pretty, in a common sort of way, and I learned through Calla that she had been Eomer's mistress until recently, when they had parted ways, and now she wanted back into his favor.

"Look at that! It's disgraceful!" I hissed as Calla and I carried in platters of fresh bread. The woman, Wythoe, was casually stroking Eomer's knee. No, make that thigh. Rather high up on his thigh, I might add.

"Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, Lady?" Calla teased.

I blushed. "Certainly not. And I told you not to call me that, Calla!"

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Why would I be jealous of a cheap blonde tramp?" I eyed Wythoe as Eomer casually lifted her hand from his leg and firmly placed it on the table, then went back to his conversation with someone else.

"Because she's sitting next to the King, getting his attention, and you're not."

"Nonsense. I am not here to catch Eomer's eye, I am here to have an adventure."

Calla was amused by my denials. "Oh, and falling in love is not?"

I set my bread down on a table and picked up an empty soup tureen. "I've hardly in love, Calla. For goodness' sake, I hardly know the man!"

"So you admit you like him, then?"

Too late, I realized what I had implied. "That's not what I meant at all and you know it."

"Mmm. Here." She grabbed the tureen from my hands and pushed me towards the empty seat two places down from Eomer. "I can finish up. You sit and eat."

"Calla!" She ignored me and left. Cursing her under my breath, I walked over to the table and sat. Eomer was at the head of the table. To his left was Wythoe, the hussy, and to his right sat his distant cousin and Third Marshall, Galliwine. I was next to Galliwine, and across from me was another, younger soldier. I quietly served myself a trencher of stew, but Galliwine interrupted me before I could eat.

"Ah! You, girl. I hear you come from the South of Gondor. Do you know anything of our impending visitors from Harad?"

Perfect. "Only a little, my lord." Stalling for time, I took a bite of my dinner and chewed it slowly. But Galliwine was impatient.

"What can you tell us of them?" Everyone was staring at me. I frantically looked around the table for a way out, finally coming to rest on Eomer's interested face. It was familiar, at least. I spoke hesitantly.

"The ambassador, Kutheia, is nothing extraordinary, but his father stands behind him and uses him to bargain Harad's position on matters of trade. If you wish for peace, they say it is better to make an impression of security and power to the father than to the son. Kutheia is affianced to the princess of Dol Amroth." My frown of confusion was not at all forced. "Frankly, it shocks me that the family would make a trip here so soon before the wedding."

Eomer spoke up. "You have not heard, then, that the princess ran away to avoid her fateful nuptials to the ambassador?"

Once again, I faked shock at the news. "Surely a princess would not run away. She must have been kidnapped, for Kutheia is not _that_ bad."

Eomer's eyes held me prisoner once more. "Perhaps. Or perhaps she just wanted to have a bit of an adventure before her suitable marriage." Our eyes held across the table. I was lost in dark brown pools.

Wythoe's tittering laugh broke the spell. "The little girl is right. What woman wouldn't want to be married to a rich ambassador?"

Little girl? "Not all women are that shallow." I said with a pointed glance at her scandalously low-cut dress. Wythoe reddened. Eomer laughed. I smiled to myself.

The man across from me spoke up. "This princess of Dol Amroth…if I am not mistaken, were you not at one time to marry her yourself, sire?"

"Imrahil was pushing for an arranged marriage, but I have never been keen on the idea of saddling myself with a boring princess. I prefer my women with more spirit than is likely to be fostered in an ivory tower." Eomer grinned. "However, if she really did have the nerve to run away, perhaps I should have accepted the offer." He winked at me, and I was confused with the contrary emotions it let loose within me. Pleasure at his attention, and anger at his low opinion of princesses.

"No doubt she'd simply run away from you, too, _my lord_." I snapped before I considered the consequences. The table hushed, and I realized that I had just insulted the country's King in his own Hall.

Eomer saved me by laughing. "No doubt." The conversation turned to horses, then, and I was safe.

For the time being.


	8. Shopping

**Yours Truly: **OK, I'm back! ::waits for cheering to die down:: I spent all night at work thinking up possible endings for this story, and I think I've come up with some quite good ones that you guys will enjoy. The only problem is _getting_ there! So bear with me, please. :)

* * *

The next morning I awoke to find Calla noisily examining my clothes. I only had the brown dress and the gray dress hanging up, but she had gone through my bag and found the servant's clothes that had smuggled me out of Dol Amroth. 

"This should do." She muttered, then briskly ordered me out of bed.

"Calla, what are you doing? It's the middle of the night!"

"And the market opens at dawn, so you'd best get ready."

I threw the blankets off my bed and climbed out, glaring at Calla the whole time. There was a basin and pitcher of water on the nightstand, which Calla had apparently donated, so I washed hastily and put on the scratchy wool tunic and hose. Calla cleared her throat and looked pointedly at my hair. Reaching my hands up, I discovered that it was sticking out from under my kerchief in all directions.

As soon as I had righted my tresses, Calla ushered me out of the room into the gray morning.

"Wait…can't I have breakfast first?"

Calla continued dragging me along by the arm. "No time. You can have a bite later."

I sighed and tried to ignore my stomach's rumblings. "One more question: why am I wearing this horrible outfit?"

It was too dark to see Calla's expression, but I'm sure she was smirking. "Because if you go to market wearing silk, the vendors will charge you an arm and a leg. If you wear rough cloth, and show a talent for bargaining, you just might come away with a fair price."

I considered that. In Dol Amroth, whenever I had gone to market it had been with a retinue of at least three guards and a female companion. Since I had always had plenty of coins to spend, I hadn't worried about prices, and had simply assumed that vendors charged everyone the same amounts, but apparently I was wrong. Going as a peasant would be a new experience- and a real adventure- for me.

"Do you have any money, Calla?" My steps became brisk, and within a few feet the Chief Housekeeper had to walk faster to keep up with me.

"Uh…yes, I received an allowance for this trip. What's got your spirits up all of a sudden?"

"It has just occurred to me that I have never really been to market before."

* * *

The Edoras market was a series of carts and wagons, loaded with goods, that met at the very edge of the city before dawn. Food of all kinds, along with mainstream items were to be found there daily, but at least once a week the gathering swelled to nearly twice its normal size with the arrival of shipments of foreign imports. Exotic cloths, spices, artwork, and trinkets were available to anyone with the coin to purchase them, or other goods to barter with. When Calla and I reached the market the sun was just beginning to rise, its golden rays glinting off of polished metal and wood everywhere. Buying and selling were occurring at furious paces, and the market was in full swing. 

Calla started to stride confidently towards the cloth-sellers, but I grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the delicious smell of freshly-baked bread. Gazing longingly at sweet rolls and fruit pies, I debated spending one of my coins on breakfast. I had only the limited funds I had left Dol Amroth with, after all, until I finished Eomer's robe and received payment for it.

"Well? Are you going to buy one or aren't you?" The baker faced me with hands on hips. He was a giant of a man, with thick reddish-blond hair and a rounded nose.

"I guess not," I said reluctantly. "I can't really afford it." Calla snorted. The baker looked at her suspiciously, then turned back to me.

"Well, be on your way, then." I looked sadly at the food once more, then with a sigh allowed Calla to lead me through the market. My pace was slow as I stopped to gawk at the marvels displayed on either side of us. A jeweler's stand caught my eye. I had always loved jewelry…not the large, ostentatious kind, but anything of high quality and superior craftsmanship. My room at home showcased quite a collection of fine pieces.

What drew my attention the most was a delicate headdress wrought in the shape of a dragon. A thin circlet of gold wrapped around the head, with the dragon's face at the front. From the teeth dangled a red gem that would be situated just between the eyebrows. It was love at first sight, but I could most definitely not afford such a luxury in my current position.

"Wishing you'd brought more money with you?" Calla remarked beside me as she admired a pair of sapphire earrings.

"Yes," I admitted. "But it makes me appreciate all the things I have even more. That circlet would cost me nearly a year of mending, and that would be without paying for my room and board."

Eventually, we reached the cloth vendors. I examined the wares and found a bolt of beautiful green velvet, gold silk to line it with, and gold embroidery thread to accent. As the merchant lifted the velvet up to hand over to me, something else caught my eye.

"I'll take that as well." I paid the man with Calla's money and started to walk away with my packages. She gaped at me with raised eyebrows.

"You're dressing the King in _black leather_?!"

"The effect will be magnificent, I think."

Calla started to say something else, no doubt disparaging, when a small boy ran up to her and tugged on her skirt.

"Miss…please, miss, are you Calla, the King's Housekeeper?"

She looked puzzled. "Yes. I am. What do you want?"

The child shoved a folded piece of paper into her hand. "One of the merchants from the South told me to give you this for a coin." He held out his hand expectantly and Calla absently pressed some money into it. As soon as the boy scampered off, she pulled me behind a pile of wine barrels and broke the seal on the paper, which looked like a letter. She raised her brows again.

"Here. It's for you." I took the letter from her curiously.

_Dear Lothiriel, _(the letter read)

_I have just been informed that you were not intended to marry my brother, but that ambassador from Harad instead. No doubt you knew this but allowed me to believe otherwise so that I would help you escape. While this irks me, it amuses me as well, so I have kept your secret._

_I hope that this finds you well, and having no difficulties and many adventures. I've sent it to Calla by way of a merchant so as not to arouse suspicion._

_Your father and brothers are privately convinced that you ran away, but the public has been informed that you were kidnapped. Kutheia is concerned for your safety; his father thinks it is all a ploy to cancel the marriage and is threatening war if you are not returned to his family. However, I don't think it's anything serious and I'm sure your father can handle it just fine. Please don't worry, everything is under control. No doubt you've heard about their planned visit to Rohan, but did you know it also has the ulterior motive of getting Kutheia's family out of Dol Amroth for awhile? Your father is hoping you will return if he is gone. He is quite worried, and quite angry._

_Have you met my brother yet? I think you two will get along quite well, if you get a chance to talk to him. If you can, please send me word of the goings-on in Rohan! Don't hesitate to ask Eomer if you need any help._

_Be careful; come home soon but not too soon._

_Love, _

_Eowyn_

"Nothing I didn't already know." I said to Calla. "Is there any way you can send a letter back to Dol Amroth for me?"

She nodded. "There is a trading party going south quite soon. I could send it with them."

I started walking back towards Meduseld. "Good. I shall write to Eowyn and send you the letter when I'm through, if that's all right. Just now I had best get to work on the King's robe!"

* * *

By afternoon my back was sore from bending over, my fingers were pricked many times from the needle, and I was dying to get out in the sunshine. I had made significant progress in my task: all the pieces were measured and cut, and some were sewn together. I had paused only twice to eat breakfast and lunch, but now I needed Eomer to try on the beginnings of his outfit to make sure I had everything right. The more pressing matter, however, was the first of my fighting lessons.

I stood up and stretched, then quickly changed back into the cheap but functional clothes I had worn to the market that morning. I bound my hair up as tightly as I could and tied a scarf firmly around my head. Grabbing my dagger, I slipped it into my pocket and bounded outside to the army training grounds.

Lucky for me, they were training on foot that day. I searched the crowd of thirty or so young soldiers until I found Jeb, then went quietly to stand next to him. Every man there turned to stare as I walked past.

"Have I missed anything?" I asked nervously.

He shook his head. "No. We've only done a few warm ups with the marshals. Soon they'll break us into smaller groups to train with our commanders. Then the King will come and work with each group for awhile."

We didn't have to wait long. Within a few minutes, Galliwine had divided the soldiers into five groups. For some reason, this took a long time, as every young man seemed to want to be in my and Jeb's group.

"Ria? What is a seamstress doing here?" The Third Marshal sounded irritated at my intrusion into the training session.

"The King has ordered me to learn to fight. Where else am I to learn but here?"

Galliwine scowled at me. "You are a distraction to the soldiers."

"There are distractions on the battlefield, are there not? Perhaps it will be good practice for them." Once again I spoke before I thought. High ranking army officials were not used to being mouthed off to by young women.

Galliwine opened his mouth but didn't say anything. At last he sighed loudly and started the practice session, ignoring me through all of it. He demonstrated several blocking and disarming moves with the body that could be adapted quite easily for sword or knife fighting. Then we paired off to spar.

Jeb and I were together. With an apologetic grin, he swiftly leaped towards me and grabbed my arms to twist them behind me. Using one of Galliwine's moves, I evaded his grasp and elbowed him in the stomach.

With a loud groan, Jeb doubled up and stepped backwards. Relentlessly, I pressed my advantage and pinned one of his arms with mine, wrapping the other in a loose chokehold around his neck. In no time at all, he was on his knees admitting defeat.

"Well, that wasn't as hard as I thought it would be!" I exclaimed happily, dusting my hands off.

"Thanks, Ria. You really know how to boost a man's self-esteem." I reached down to help my victim to his feet. He took my hand, but instead of standing up he pulled me to the ground and we started the fight over again. This time, he won.

"Oof! Let me go, Jeb, you win." Wincing, I sat up and felt all the places where I would have bruises the next day. I looked up and realized that Jeb and I were completely surrounded by fascinated spectators, all of whom were male. Most were frantically offering to fight me next, but they grew silent when Eomer King pushed his way through the crowd and crossed his arms above me. Blushing, I stood and curtsied.

"Good afternoon, milord."

"Good afternoon, Ria. I did not expect to find you here." He glared at me.

"No, I don't suppose you did." I said shortly.

Eomer looked at me expectantly, but I didn't elaborate. "Well? What is the meaning of this? Why do you parade yourself in front of my men thus?"

Now the redness in my face was more due to anger than embarrassment. "What do you mean, 'parade myself?' YOU wanted me to learn to fight, so I came here. I am doing nothing wrong!"

Instantly, Eomer clasped my arm and pulled me outside the ring of men and out of earshot. He practically growled at me.

"Soldiers are….they are not fit company for women, Ria. If you stay amongst them in such a fashion, they will think you a whore. I say this not to insult you, but to protect you, for it is a foolish thing that you do."

I gasped. "How dare you! I am not a whore!"

"I do not think you one," He swiftly defended himself, and his tone became more soothing. "Nor did I say you were. In fact, I admire you for attempting this thing. But I cannot allow it, for it is both harmful to the soldiers' concentration and your reputation."

"Damn you!" I shouted. "You tell me I must learn to fight, but you will not let me practice! Why must you be so insufferable?"

Eomer's brief conciliatory mood faded and he yelled right back at me. "Why must you be so naïve? You are a beautiful woman, Ria! You cannot honestly expect to fraternize with thirty young soldiers so casually, and you cannot expect me to allow you to! I won't thrash every one of my men, and that is what they make me want to do when I see them looking at you so!"

"Fine." I snapped. "Teach me yourself, then."

"What?" Eomer narrowed his eyes.

"You will have to teach me, since you can't seem to stand anyone else doing it." I crossed my arms and eyed him defiantly. I knew I was stepping well over the line of respectful servitude, but I was so annoyed that I didn't care.

"What, now?"

"Whatever time is best for you."

For the first time Eomer seemed uncertain. "Well…uh…I might be able to find some time later this afternoon, after the council meeting…"

"Good. I shall meet you at the stables, if that's quite all right with you, _my lord_?" Irritation dripped from my words.

"Fine. The stables at five o'clock."

"Fine." I stayed where I was and sent him icy looks. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. After a pause, he spoke again. "Don't you have some sewing or something to do?"

"I need you to try some things on before I can continue. However, since you're so _busy_, I probably won't have anything better to do than hang around the barracks for a few days…"

Eomer gritted his teeth. "All right, all right. As soon as I'm finished here I'll find you and you can stick me with needles to your heart's content…within reason, of course. Now will you please go?"

I smiled sweetly, dropped a curtsy, and left.

* * *

**Me Again: **I have such an evil imagination. Bet you weren't expecting Eomer in black leather, were you? Heh…get your mind out of the gutter, all of you :P I have my reasons. I promise it'll pan out. If you review, that is... 


	9. Slap 1

Author Note: As I've remarked before, I know where this story needs to go, it's getting there that's the problem. ::sigh:: I'll probably write down every bad plot scenario I've thought up thus far, stick them all in a hat, and draw them out and use them one by one until **_IT_** happens.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are great. Even when I don't reply to each one individually, I do read and ponder them all. Merci beaucoup, mes amis!

* * *

What had I done?

As soon as Eomer and I parted company at the practice field, the doubts had started racing through my mind. All through the afternoon, as I sliced potatoes in the kitchens, I wondered if I had done the right thing. I begged and pleaded until Calla reluctantly agreed to chaperone Eomer's fitting because I was afraid to be alone with him. Yet my pride would not let me back down after I had demanded he teach me to fight.

Why was I afraid? I feared his deep brown eyes; I feared his broad shoulders and long golden hair; I feared the way he grinned when someone told a joke at dinner, the way he treated his people as equals. I feared the way he looked at me whenever I passed him in the corridors, like he very desperately wanted to run out of whatever meeting he was in the midst of and grab me.

I knew he was attracted to me, that much was quite obvious. What caused me disturbance was the force of my attraction for him. There had been men I had thought handsome before, at home, and men I had laughed with and thought I might have been happy to spend my life alongside. Never before, though, had one so fascinated or exasperated me as did Eomer. I wanted to know why he acted the way he did, so gruff and unapproachable, yet hid within himself a soul so pure it startled those who glimpsed it. I glimpsed it every time I looked into his eyes.

So now I paced nervously outside Gwen's stall, sifting through my thoughts trying to make sense of my emotions. But mind and heart have never coincided, and I came to no conclusions.

Bootsteps sounded outside. I heard the massive stable doors open and close, and someone walked slowly down the center aisle. Before I could turn to greet the approacher, an arm wrapped around my waist and another loosely circled my throat.

"Now. In this position you must be careful not to struggle too much before you make your move. Pretend I'm holding a knife at your throat. Vain thrashing about will only make me grip you tighter, and you might cut yourself in the process. What are you going to do?" Eomer's voice, thank the Valar, was brisk and professional, and he couldn't see my blush in the dimly lit stables. Remembering what I had learned that afternoon, I took a deep breath, hooked one foot behind his ankle, spun around and shoved him backwards. He tripped over my foot and fell to the floor. There was a white flash as he grinned up at me.

"Very good! But if someone holds a knife at your neck, be sure and either bite them until they drop it, or get them to take it away before you act. Again." Eomer leapt up and assumed the same pose. Once again, I tried to trip him up and push him away…only this time, he didn't fall, merely spun me around until my arms were pinned behind me and my legs were trapped between his.

"The ideal solution to this problem, of course," He said professionally, "Is to not get yourself in this position in the first place. However," Eomer winced and loosed his grip on me after I stomped on his toes. "Situations beyond your control may necessitate some self-defense, and no woman should be without at least the basics." I jerked away from him and turned to look haughtily at him. Ha.

"I seem to have escaped you, my lord."

"You have speed, and that is well. Against brute strength, however, it will save you only if you act quickly and do not prolong the conflict, else you will tire too soon to help yourself." I nodded when he paused, for that seemed to make sense. "Do you have your knife with you?"

In answer, I pulled it out of its sheath under my sleeve.

"Throw it away."

"What?"

"Just for now. I don't want you tempted to slit my throat, and I am unarmed." Rolling my eyes, I set the blade atop the gatepost of Gwen's stall.

We practiced for over an hour. Eomer would attack me in various ways, then show me how I might slip past my enemy's guard and escape. I was soon breathing heavily and sweating, but to my annoyance Eomer showed few signs of fatigue, save a light flush on his face.

"Perhaps we should stop. You seem…tired." The look of smug superiority on his face infuriated me.

"You are not wearing a dress, two underskirts, and a chemise my lord."

"I hope you are not wearing all of that on my account." Eomer grinned rakishly and I remembered my purpose here. I reached up with my left hand to hit him across the face, and when he moved easily to block the blow, my right palm connected with his cheek. Hard. "One down, two to go." Smirking, I picked up my knife and tucked it into my sleeve again.

Eomer winced and rubbed his face. "I thought we agreed on two slaps."

"That was before your last comment."

"Amazing." Eomer spoke softly to himself, but I heard him and turned back.

"What is amazing?"

"That I allow my seamstress to treat me in such a manner. I cannot fathom why I don't simply dismiss you, yet something stops me. Is it your regal bearing? Your proud stature? Your vocabulary?" The King took a step towards me and tipped my face upward with his forefinger. "Nay, Ria…it is your spirit. I have met only one woman with such a fiery soul before. My sister gave her passion to the Steward of Gondor and took the liveliness from Meduseld. Somehow, when you came, you brought it back."

With his face so near mine, it was all I could do to breath. I took a shaky gulp of air, then stumbled over my words.

"I have heard of your ability to charm women into submission, my lord. It will not work with me."

His eyes darkened, if that was possible, and his face hardened to stone. From somewhere deep inside him, his voice came deep and rough.

"I do not seek to seduce you, Ria. If I did," Eomer's hand moved to cup my face, then to cradle the back of my kerchief-covered head. "I would do this."

Then he kissed me, a kiss that, though it was my first, left me in no doubt that if he wanted to he could have me flat on my back in a matter of moments. His lips were soft and hot; he claimed my mouth and through it my body and, though I did not realize it then, my soul. Before I could stop myself, my arms were around his neck and I was kissing him back, silently begging for more. Eomer bent me backward slightly and ran his hands under my kerchief into my hair. I didn't care. And then he pulled back.

Suddenly I was cold. The shivers and heat that had coursed through my limbs were replaced by stark loneliness. Gulping for air, I looked at Eomer. There was a strange look in his eyes: surprised, as though he hadn't expected such a result.

"You have never kissed a man before." It wasn't a question.

"How could you tell?"

"You were so…real. Uninhibited. Honest." Eomer smiled slowly, a purely male, satisfied smile.

I realized what I had done and my eyes widened in horror. I had kissed a man! A man I was not married not, not even betrothed to, whom I barely knew.

"It shall not happen again!" Turning on my heel, I ran back into the Hall.

* * *

I did not go to supper in the Great Hall that evening. They did not need my assistance in the kitchen, so out of sheer boredom I stayed in my room and sewed till my eyes drooped. I fell into bed expecting to go directly to sleep, but when my head hit the pillow I instead stared out the window at the stars and wondered what had come over me.

The next day I managed to avoid Eomer until dinner. All day long I skulked in my room, sewing furiously, until Calla came and demanded I go eat with her. An important announcement was to be made, she said excitedly, and she didn't want me to miss it. I was tempted to refuse, or plead sickness, but when I thought of all the trouble Calla had gone to on my behalf I couldn't bring myself to deny her. So I bound my hair up tightly and covered it, assumed a poised and controlled expression, and followed the Chief Housekeeper out into the Hall.

With relief, I noted that the High Table was filled with soldiers of the Royal Guard. Calla and I sat at one of the lower tables. Once during dinner, Eomer managed to capture my gaze once, but I swiftly looked away. After the tables were cleared, the King stood. All eyes turned to him as he began an announcement.

"Tonight I have the great honor and pleasure of announcing the impending marriage of Seith, fourth guard to the King, and Calla, Chief Housekeeper of Meduseld." Eomer paused for cheering and congratulations. "The exchange of vows and formal recognition will take place one week from tonight, in this Hall, before our foreign guests arrive. To Seith and Calla!" He raised his goblet and took a swallow of wine, but his eyes were on me.

"To Seith and Calla." I echoed with the crowd. The couple shyly gazed at each other across the room, and their love was almost palpable. My eyes filled with tears as I witnessed the happiness I would never share. Never would I fall in love with and be courted by a man of my own choosing, and never would I marry such a one.

I escaped the Hall as soon as I could and fled to my room. In the shadows outside my door, I finally allowed myself to cry. With a sob, I turned the handle, but a hand covered mine and stopped me from opening the door.

"Ria, why do you weep? Is this not a joyous occasion for your friend?"

"What are you doing here?" I asked, withdrawing my hand from Eomer's.

"I wanted to apologize if I upset you yesterday. Clearly, something distressed you this evening as well." There was genuine concern in his voice. The temptation to confide in him was overwhelming, but I knew I could not.

"Thank you, my lord." I said tiredly. "'Twas not your doing, only my own wayward thoughts. Good night." I started to enter my room, but Eomer held the door open and spoke again.

"Will you go for a ride with me tomorrow? I need to inspect some of the outlying fields, and it would be much more bearable if I did it in good company."

Curious, I turned to face him. "What will your people say? They will think you stoop to court a seamstress."

Eomer grinned. "They would be correct."

Unbidden, a smile came to my face. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"I believe we discussed that in the stables yesterday." I blushed.

"There will be talk. Scandal."

"What's the use of being King if I can't turn heads once in awhile? Let them talk. There's not a man or woman in this city who can't see that you're more than a common servant."

I meant to say no. I really did. But when I opened my mouth, all that came out was, "All right. I will ride with you tomorrow."

Thus I sealed my doom.


	10. Slap 2

**Author:** YES! I've done it! I know exactly what's going to happen and how this is going to end! Muahahahahahahaha….

Thank you to all my reviewers!! I love you guys. Whenever I don't put up a chapter before I go to sleep, I feel so guilty. Sad, but true ;)

* * *

Work on the King's Robe was progressing well. The red silk under-robe was nearly finished and all I had left was the embroidery around its hem. A green cloak/coat/tunic was to go over the red with more golden stitching. I had decided to embroider some of Rohan's native flowers along the neck and sleeves.

For the black leather, however, I had something entirely different in mind. This would be my personal gift to the King, to thank him indirectly for sheltering a runaway princess, though he would hopefully never find out. I was working on my second project without Calla's help, at night, so that it would be a complete surprise. Based off of some discussions my brothers had had about the difficulties of finding clothes they could practice comfortably in without wearing armor, I had designed a sleeveless jerkin of sorts made out of reinforced leather. It came almost to the knees, slit up the sides to the waist for ease of movement, and laced up the front. It was designed to be worm over a loose shirt and leggings, and to be light, but the leather would provide protection and warmth.

On the way to the stables to meet Eomer for our ride, I gave Calla the letter I wished to send to Eowyn. It didn't say much, merely that I was well and that I would be home soon. The letter she had sent me was securely hidden under my mattress along with her scroll. Briefly, I wondered if I should read it, but the thought was soon driven from my mind by other things. Namely, Eomer's arrival in the stables.

"Are you ready?" He asked with a smile. He looked so content and carefree that I determined then and there that this would be a normal ride. I would not bait or attack him in any way, nor would I respond with a sharp tongue to anything he said.

"Ready when you are." I replied. Eomer gallantly assisted me into the saddle and I, remembering my commitment to maintain diplomacy today, allowed him to do so.

"We have fine weather for a ride today." The King commented. Surely, I thought, weather isn't the only thing we can talk about peacefully!

"Indeed, my lord. But tell me, what is the purpose of your journey today? You mentioned inspecting some fields, I believe?"

"Yes. A few farmers have put in claims of bad crops this year and applied for aid from the King. I need to make sure they are truly in need before I grant them assistance." As we rode out of Edoras, Eomer signaled his usual guards not to follow. Evidently he desired privacy for us. I blushed slightly at the thought, but it could have been the sunshine.

"Why do you not appoint someone to do this task? It hardly seems kingly." I asked, trying desperately not to remember the kiss he had given me before.

Eomer considered the question. "I could delegate the job, I suppose. Yet it offers me an opportunity to meet and get to know some of the farmers of the land, which I enjoy. It seems much more personal this way."

And it was personal, I saw as I accompanied Eomer from farm to farm. Many of the families he knew already, and he greeted them with comments about the growth of their holdings or the prosperity of their livestock. He discussed horses with the men and women, examined the children's toys, allowed the youths to examine his sword and Wingfoot. Everywhere he went he found common ground to start from, and from there worked his way easily into the hearts of his people. Because I was with him, the families welcomed me as well, pressing me with compliments and questions about the South, and gifts that I tried not to accept.

After we visited the last farm and started back towards Edoras, I remarked on his ease and friendliness with the peasants.

"How can a King serve his people if he does not know them?"

"Many do."

"True. But there will come times when I must make decisions for the good of the country that hurt some of its inhabitants, and it will be easier for them to bear if they know that I am aware of their difficulties and have tried my hardest to help them." With those words, I was struck by the inherent nobility of this man whom fate had chosen to become a King. I gazed at him and I saw not the arrogant soldier's exterior, but the patient, kind heart that beat within. Gwen and Wingfoot were side by side. I leaned towards Eomer; he leaned towards me; and as much as I wanted to kiss him at that moment, I couldn't miss my opening.

I slapped him.

Eomer reeled back in his saddle and stared at me, looking confused. I started to apologize, but was cut off when Eomer suddenly leapt from his horse and knocked me to the ground. Trapped beneath him, I lay still in shock for a moment, catching my breath. Then he was gone as abruptly as he had tackled me, and only when I was looking up at him from the earth did I see the arrow shaft protruding from Eomer's left shoulder.

Before I could think, he had hauled me back to my feet and shoved me up onto Gwen.

"Run fast, Gwen. Take her to safety." He said in Rohirric to the horse. She appeared to understand, and I was instantly racing over the last mile to Edoras. Twisting in my seat, I peered back to watch for Eomer. With relief, I saw him remount Wingfoot. I thought he might make it back to the City until a mounted archer, clad all in black, rode over the crest of a low hill and fired another arrow at Eomer's back.

My mind separated from my body. By the time my mind realized that Eomer had fallen from his horse and might not get back up, I had reigned in Gwen and wheeled her around. When my brain confirmed that the approaching Guard, having seen the King's distress, would not reach Eomer before the archer did, I was already urging Gwen back towards Eomer. My mind saw Eomer stand clumsily up, and draw his sword, but my body had already noted that the assassin had notched another arrow. All I could think of was that he couldn't die until he had a better memory of me than a slap across the face. And so, reaching far back into my memory from the days when I had followed my brothers to their lessons in weaponry, I reached into my sleeve, pulled out my knife, and hurled it with a prayer at the figure in black.

I know not how, but it struck him in the neck. I had just killed a man, but I spared him not a glance. Instead, I dismounted and ran to Eomer, who was sitting in the grass looking perplexedly at his wounds.

"Eomer. Eomer! Are you all right? What should I do?" I knelt next to him and frantically tried to remember the proper care for someone with arrows sticking out of their shoulder and side.

"If I'm not dead by now…" He said faintly. "I probably won't die today. But I might…pass out….if you don't stop…the bleeding." He gave me a shaky, sad excuse for a smile that frightened me more than it reassured me.

"Eomer? I'm going to take the arrows out. Try to stay awake!" As if I had done it a hundred times before, I pulled the short knife from Eomer's belt and deftly sliced the shafts and protruding tips off the arrows. Wincing, I pulled the remaining bloody sticks out of Eomer's body. I ripped the kerchief from my head and tied it around his shoulder-wound, then pressed a piece of my skirt to the hole in his side.

Only after the Rohirrim Guards had arrived and taken over did I stop to wonder how, after not having done it for at least 8 years, I had managed to throw a knife accurately. Or removed two arrows and bandaged their wounds. It occurred to me that perhaps, in the necessity of the moment, some long-forgotten reflexes in my body had come to life and aided me. Whether it was that or the work of the Valar didn't matter: I was thankful either way.

I stayed by Eomer's side while the healers saw him. They cleaned his wounds and bandaged them properly with wholesome herbs. He was only half-conscious throughout the process until they gave him a horrible-smelling tonic to drink that put him to sleep. Afterwards, they happily told me that the arrows hadn't pierced anything delicate, and that aside from loss of blood and torn skin, and barring infection, the King would be just fine in several days. Then the healers left, and I finally relaxed into a chair next to Eomer's bed, leaning my head backwards and closing my eyes with relief. He wouldn't go to the afterlife with only the recollection of me slapping him after all. With a smile, I allowed myself to drift into sleep.

* * *

It was dark when I woke. Eomer was still asleep. I reached over and picked up his hand and held it in both of mine. He was a little pale, but otherwise peaceful. Slowly I moved to brush a lock of hair off of his face.

Someone cleared their throat. Hastily, I withdrew my hands and stood facing the doorway. Halathain stood in it, flanked by what appeared to be the entire staff of Meduseld. He bowed, then raised his head with a strangely worried look in his eyes.

Wait a moment…he bowed?

"My lady, we thank you. On behalf of this entire household, who knows your courage, and on behalf of those who still think you are just another servant, we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts."

I think my jaw dropped. "How…Halathain, what are you talking about?" I asked, trying to play dumb.

"Servants hear more gossip than anyone else, my lady, and we also notice things that some do not. We knew from the moment you arrived that you were not a seamstress, but we could also tell you posed no threat here, so we let you be. But when you rode back into danger to save a king who is not your own, and let loose your flaming hair, then we understood."

"Un…understood what?"

"You are not Ria, the seamstress and cook, but Lothiriel, princess of Dol Amroth."


	11. Ria's Mood Swing

AN: Ahh…a thunderstorm outside and a fanfic within. What more could a girl want?

What's that? No, I don't think Brad Pitt/ Karl Urban/ Eomer Eadig is available at the moment. But if you reviewed my story, I'll give you chocolate almond ice cream as a consolation prize. :)

* * *

I looked at Calla. She shook her head and shrugged. I sighed and wondered if there was any point in denying Halathain's words.

"How did you know?" I stammered.

"Rumors of a runaway red-haired princess reached our ears about the same time you reached Rohan. Little was known about you save that you came from the South. 'Twas easy enough to put together the pieces."

"Then why haven't you said anything before? Why now?" They were going to send me away, I knew it.

"There are some of noble birth who consider their blood to be more sacred than that of commoners. You risked your life to save Eomer King's. If you had been killed, there would have been great consequences. We recognize this, and again we thank you for it. You have proven your worth to Rohan, Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, Lady Ria of Edoras." Halathain bowed, and the other servants followed suit. It was an awkward moment for me; I couldn't think of anything to say.

"This means Eomer is going to find out, doesn't it." I winced as I spoke the words. The King would be angry with me. He would send me home before I was ready. "Please don't bow, Halathain. That's the reason I came, after all."

"Frankly, I'm surprised the King hasn't already figured things out. I know he suspects, but he is not yet sure. It is my duty as Steward to inform him of your true identity." My face fell. "However," Halathain continued, looking at me shrewdly, "I think it is best not to disturb the King too greatly in his current state, so Eomer will not be told of this development until he is well enough to handle the news."

Relief swept over me. I still had some time! I didn't have to go home right away! For a moment I was elated, until I remembered at what cost my reprieve had come

"Thank you, Halathain. And everyone else as well." I smiled weakly at the assembled servants and looked guiltily down at the blessedly oblivious Eomer.

* * *

I stayed by Eomer's side all that first night. His sleep was deep and even, healthy and clear, not troubled by fever or infection. Perched on my chair near Eomer's bed, I continued to embroider his new robe, though it would not be needed so desperately now. The ambassadors' visit had, of course, been canceled due to the King's health.

By dark the Guard had finished examining the body of the assassin. He was dressed all in black, in a style common to northern Harad and southern Gondor, but bore no insignias or crests to proclaim his family or city allegiance. His horse was not branded. The only thing that could possibly be considered a clue to the killer's identity was the thin, gleaming bronze wire twisted through the fletching of his arrows.

.I fell asleep again hours after the servants left. Or rather, I dozed uncomfortably in my chair. Upon waking around midnight, I saw first that many lamps had been quietly lit around the room, and secondly that Eomer was awake and watching me.

"Eo…my lord!" I jerked upright and remembered with horror that I had never bothered to replace my kerchief.

"Thank you." He said quietly, not looking at my hair, but merely at my face. His eyes searched me for something I couldn't define. I stilled my nervous hands and waited. "You saved my life today, Ria. You proved yourself a woman of courage, courage enough to risk yourself for the sake of a man who treated you with disrespect at least twice, and to whom you owe no allegiance. I stand in your debt."

"Nay, Lord. You also saved my life. The arrow that would have pierced my flesh instead landed in yours when you pushed me off of Gwen. There is no debt." My voice was nearly a whisper, so grave and serious was Eomer's manner.

The King sat up a little and shook his head. "I am naught but a soldier, Ria. It has been drilled into my very blood since I was a child to behave as I did. 'Twas nothing. But you? Seamstresses are not taught from birth to rescue lives. That was your own worth coming brilliantly to the surface." Eomer reached out and took my hand gently. "There is a debt. If ever you have need of something I can supply, you have only to ask."

I looked at him lying there, pale but wide awake, tired yet strong, and I burst into tears. I gripped his hand in both of mine and sank to my knees beside the bed.

"I thought I wouldn't get there in time!" I cried. "What if I hadn't? You would be dead. I haven't thrown a knife in years, Eomer, years! What if I had missed? He would have killed you! How could I have gone home happily with you dead?" Eomer looked slightly shocked and distinctly overwhelmed by my outburst. "My fiancee is neither my father's nor my first choice as a husband. If nothing else, though, he is at least not a soldier."

"Ria…Ria! Why do you weep? You are not hurt; I will soon be healed. There is nothing to fret over."

"Why do I weep? I weep, my lord, because I am just beginning to realize how very fond of you I have become, and it scares me. Good night." I rose and walked out, wiping my face as I ran to my room, heedless of the healers and guards I shoved past.

* * *

Author: Sorry this was such a slow update. I've been busy, plus I've had writer's block, and a nasty review is never helpful, either. I have really, really good plans for the next chapter, though, so be on the lookout! :) Sorry so short, as well...


	12. Confrontation

Author's Ubiquitous Note: THIS IS IT! OK, not quite, but pretty darn close. In this chapter, If all goes according to plan, the first seeds of my PLANS will be sowed. :: uproarious evil/maniacal laughter ::

Please review :) And special, special, wondrous resounding thanks to everyone who sent me encouragement after I whined about a review that, upon further reflection, wasn't really so negative after all. ::hugs to all::

Oh, and I have no idea how long it would take a healthy (wink wink) male to recover fully from two arrow wounds, probably longer that I'm going to put in my story, though. If you know, tell me.

* * *

For three days, I again avoided Eomer.

Most of these days, I assure the reader, were spent not only in riding, sewing, cooking, and basically enjoying my freedom, but in contemplating _why_ exactly I was avoiding Eomer. The man would not leave my thoughts alone! Everything I did reminded me of him. While serving meals I wondered if he was eating enough cloistered in his chamber. As I embroidered to the sound of Calla chattering about her wedding plans, I debated the wisdom of interfering with the healers to make sure they were caring for the King adequately. I rode through the city frequently, exploring its lively tavern districts and quiet residential areas, thinking of questions about the country I would have liked to ask Eomer, and how nice it would have been if he had ridden with me. Every night I fell asleep with the memory of a kiss and deep brown eyes.

Officially, the assassin was declared to have been a renegade acting alone. My place with the servants (who were proving remarkably adept at keeping secrets from their employer), however, afforded me a glimpse at inner-palace gossip that most citizens did not enjoy. Thus I knew that many of the King's Council were worried about the situation. If the man had succeeded in killing Eomer, the country would have been thrown into turmoil, with no clear heir to the throne. In such a position, Rohan would have been dangerously vulnerable to any strong outside force that might try to overrun it. It was the opinion of the Council that the assassin had been sent expressly to kill the King for such a purpose. The only question was, where had the man come from? Without proof, they could do nothing but wait.

It was Eomer's wish that life continue as close to normal as possible during is amazingly short convalescence. Calla and Seith's wedding was to take place as planned, so there was still plenty of work for us to do. The couple would have the added pleasure of eating all the food that the very disgruntled head cook had prepared in advance for the ambassadors.

And so the days passed all too swiftly for me, and the day drew near when I knew I had to leave.

* * *

"I, Calla of Rohan, daughter of Moeth, do hereby swear in the presence of my King and country, that I take to husband Seith, son of Eovard, and that I will honor and be faithful to him until death parts us."

"I, Seith of Rohan, Fourth Guard to the King, son of Eovard, do hereby swear in the presence of my King and country, that I take to wife Calla, daughter of Moeth, and that I will honor and be faithful to her until death parts us."

The couple stood with their hands clasped on the dais at the western end of the Hall. With a smile, Eomer stepped forward and loosely bound their joined hands with a white and golden rope, then placed a goblet of wine in their palms.

"Eomer King of Rohan recognizes this union and blesses it. I bid you, Seith and Calla, husband and wife, to drink to your marriage."

Never taking their eyes off of each other, Seith and Calla slowly raised the cup. First Calla took a sip, then did Seith. Eomer reached to take the goblet away and set it on a nearby table, and the second it was gone Seith let out a great yell (something between a laugh and a shout of delight), grabbed Calla and kissed her for all he was worth.

Cheering and laughing, the crowd dispersed to eat, dance, eat, and congratulate the newly wedded couple. I watched the proceedings from a shadowed corner of the Hall with a sad smile. Though I was truly happy for Calla, I could not help but feel regret at witnessing her wedding. My own, I knew, would be much different. 'Twould be somber and dull, with many speeches about peace and prosperity and accord between two countries, and nobody would be in the least concerned that I would be selling my future for political prosperity. With a sigh, I stepped forward to offer my regards to Calla and Seith.

Many people stopped me on my way, and by the time I reached the dais I was two glasses of wine less practical than usual. I was not too far-gone, though, to not notice that Eomer had disappeared. It should have been relief that I felt, but it was instead disappointment. I should have liked to say goodbye to him, I mused.

"Ria!" Calla broke away from Seith long enough to hug me. "Thank you so much for the veil. It's gorgeous! I shall treasure it forever…but whenever did you find the time to make it?" She gestured happily to the silver-embroidered white gauze that covered her hair.

I laughed. "I hardly slept last night, that's how. But it was worth it if you like it. I just stopped by to tell you how happy I am for you two…and to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"Yes…I don't want to ruin your night, but I must leave this evening. I have lingered in Rohan too long already. I shall slip out quietly as soon as I leave here."

"Ria…you are going to tell the King, aren't you?" Calla looked worried, and I felt a pang of guilt at causing her stress on her wedding day. So I gave her the answer she wanted.

"Of course, of course. Don't worry. We'll part in honesty, I assure you."

"Of course." Calla echoed suspiciously.

There were more people in line behind me to speak to the bride and groom. "I will write to you!" I said, edging away.

"Wait!" Calla grabbed my arm and I turned back to face her. Her stern features softened a little. "I'm sorry I was hard on you at first, Ria. You've proven yourself many times over here, and…well, if you ever come to your senses and decide not to marry that oaf Kutheia, you'll always have a place with us, if you need one. Goodbye." Silently, we embraced again, and then I ran to my room.

* * *

I could have sworn I had doused the lamps, yet my chamber was lit as I entered it after leaving the Hall. Cautiously, I stepped into the doorway. My things were as I had left them, strewn about the room and half-packed into my bag, yet something was not right. Hesitantly, I walked into the room.

_Click._ The sound of the door being shut and the lock turned caused me to wheel around. Eomer leaned casually against the closed door. Finding myself much too close, I took a hurried two steps backwards.

"My…my lord! What are you doing here?" There was a strange look on Eomer's face. Puzzled, almost angry, and yet oddly…hurt.

"I might ask you the same, Princess."

The blood left my face. "How did you find out?" I whispered, half to myself.

"Via this most revealing scroll, addressed to me, which I was quite shocked to find laying on top of your things when I came in here looking for you." Eomer uncrossed his arms and walked until he was directly in front of me. "Might I ask when you were planning on informing me of this? After you had ridden out by yourself and been attacked, perhaps? When you'd tired of slumming and decided to resume your royal lifestyle?"

Nervously, I backed away again. "Never."

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I wasn't ever going to tell you. It would have ruined the whole adventure."

"Adventure? Is that what this was? Taking your life in your hands, running away from home, risking war the whole while? Just an adventure?"

"Yes." I snapped. "An adventure. You know, one of those things that men have all the time, but women are expected to forego. Something I can look back on with interest after I'm married."

"Ah, your fiancee. I'd forgotten about him. And who is he? A king disguised as a soldier?"

"I'm not even going to respond to that. Now if you will excuse me," I walked over to my bed and started throwing things into my bag, "I have to finish packing. Which you should know, since you took it upon yourself to go through my personal belongings."

"Why here? For your adventure, I mean." Eomer still sounded angry, but he was restraining it to satisfy his curiosity. Reluctantly, I answered.

"When Eowyn described you to me, I thought you sounded like the sort of person that would always be in the middle of something exciting. She said that Rohan was beautiful, and I had never been here. And," I laced up my bag and set it on the ground next to two large paper-wrapped packages. "This was the only opportunity I had to leave Dol Amroth. But I am returning tonight."

"Tonight?" Eomer looked at the bag on the ground, and appeared to notice for the first time that I was leaving. "You will do no such thing. A proper escort will be arranged to accompany you home tomorrow."

"Ah ha!" I triumphantly pointed at the confused King. "You see? THIS is why I didn't want anyone to know who I am. You're going to start treating me like a princess now. I can't just be Ria, the friend that you kissed in the stables, the girl who _saved your life_, I'm Lothiriel, princess of Dol Amroth now. I have to be treated like glass."

"That is who you are."

"But it's not _what_ I am!" I cried. "All my life, my father and my brothers have planned and scheduled my very existence. Just this once, for these few days, I wanted to live like a normal person without guards and chaperones and…and….propriety. And I have, and it has been the most wonderful experience I have ever known." My voice dropped. "Please, Eomer. Don't ruin it for me now."

Then Eomer looked into my eyes, and spoke, and I knew why I had seen hurt in his face before.

"And what of us, Ria?" He said angrily. "Do not pretend you haven't felt it, this spark between us. Would you leave that behind? Do you feel nothing for me?" He gently clasped my arms.

"N…no. No, I don't."

Eomer kissed me. I melted into his embrace, and for blessed moments I didn't think of Dol Amroth, or Kutheia, or what I was leaving behind in Rohan.

"You lied." We broke apart, breathless. I stepped back. Refusing to look at him, I forced myself to remember what I had to do.

"Eomer, I will admit that I feel something for you. But my city needs my service now, and my father wishes me to wed another man. And that is why I must leave. Because…if I stay another moment, I will fall in love with you."

I was out the door and racing down the hallway before Eomer recovered enough from his shock to chase after me. At the stables, I found Gwen saddled and ready, and I allowed myself a second to smile and think of Easa. Leaving the two packages that contained Eomer's robe and leather tunic in her empty stall, I rode out into the night towards home.


	13. An Unwelcome Surprise

Author: Well, well, well. So you guys don't like it when I stop at places like that, hmm? Too bad. I have to keep you hooked somehow :P

A big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed! And a question: why does everyone put "please read and review" in their story synopses here? Do people really review _without_ actually reading the story first?

* * *

_Eomer raced after Ria. He saw her duck into the stabled, and before he could reach her she was gone, fleeing into the night. Desperately, he ran to Wingfoot's stall. He knew this stable too well for the darkness to be a hindrance, going automatically to the place where his horse's saddle and tack hung. Reaching up, he tried to life the heavy leather saddle down from its hook._

Pain shot through his shoulder. The saddle fell to the ground as Eomer gripped his barely healed wound. Even in the blackness of the stable, he could see where a dark spot was growing between his spread finger. The wound was bleeding again. Not badly, but enough.

"My Lord!" Easa, the head groom, appeared at Eomer's side. Despite his preoccupation, the King wondered briefly if the man lived in the stable, since he was never seen anywhere else.

"Saddle Wingfoot, Easa." With a grimace, Eomer grabbed a nearby saddle blanket and began tearing it into strips.

"But sir…you're not well…"

"Just do it, Easa, or I'll be inclined to recall that it must have been you who had her horse ready and waiting for a midnight escape. And while you're at it--" He rattled off a list of items for Easa to bring to him. Eomer wound the torn cloth around his shoulder. The groom reluctantly fetched a saddlebag full of travel necessities, took the saddle and placed it on Wingfoot's back, then added a bridle.

Eomer winced and swung up onto the horse. In his condition, he wouldn't be able to travel fast enough to overtake Ria immediately. But Wingfoot could run three times as long as Gwen without a rest, which gave him the advantage over the wayward princess.

He would find her if he had to chase her all the way to the sea.

* * *

Had I done the right thing?

_Of course!_ The part of my that sounded suspiciously like my father answered. _It's your duty to go home and marry Kutheia, and you've been away too long already._

_But you love him!_ Another part of my mind protested. _You do and you know it. How can you marry one man when you heart belongs to another? Is that just?_

Doubt and worry plagued my journey for three days. I rode nearly non-stop through the mountains, as swiftly as Gwen could carry me away from Rohan. On the third day of my travels, I cam across the first evidence that I was following a very large party. The ambassadors and my brothers, I thought, it must be them. They must be traveling very slowly, according to my father's wishes that they keep away from Dol Amroth as long as possible, as Eowyn had said.

I overtook them that night. The convoy had made camp in a small hollow between a couple of ridges that occurred naturally in the mountains. As I rode over the northeastern one, I could see many campfires spread out before me. Soldiers bearing the ship and swan of Dol Amroth mingled with those from the Kutheia's father's house, of Harad. Two great tents were pitched on opposite ends of the campsite, one blue and silver, one black and gold.

Looking down at the camp, I couldn't bring myself to join it. Something held me back. I told myself that I merely wanted to extend my adventure, and to arrive in Dol Amroth before Kutheia's family, but I knew what it really was. If my brothers, or the Haradrim, found out I was nearby, there would be no turning back. As quietly as I could, I crept back into the woods that covered the ridge. I was too far away for anyone in the camp to hear me, but they would have posted sentries and I had no desire to be caught by one. Famous last words.

"Well, well. What have we here?" The voice spoke in the language of Harad, which I understood, but the sword pointed at my throat would have been plain enough if I hadn't. Slowly, I turned to face the soldier. Blast! If I had to have been caught, why couldn't it have been by one of Dol Amroth's men?

"State your business. What brings a woman out riding alone at night in the mountains?" Now he spoke in the Common Tongue. The moonlight glinted off the metallic trimmings of his uniform. He bore two long knives at his belt in addition to a sword, with a bow and quiver of arrows on his back.

_Oh, dear_. "I am but a farmer's daughter, good soldier, out for a ride on my father's land. I saw your campfires near the road and was curious at who was traveling in the mountains."

The soldier looked me up and down, then slowly lowered his sword but kept it in his hand. I nervously shifted Gwen's reins to my left hand and felt the straps of my sheathed knife in my right sleeve. I had three choices: swing up on Gwen and hope the sentry didn't have mounted friends nearby, talk my way out of this, or fight.

"It was unwise to ride out alone, girl. There are many…unsavory men about who would prey upon your innocence." He took a step towards me.

I settled for talking. "But sir! What if I am not so innocent as I appear?" I said with a wink, trying to catch the soldier off guard.

He leered at me through the shadows and sheathed his sword. "Then perhaps you will not consider me so unsavory," The soldier reached for me. Satisfied, I reached for my knife and was about to hold it to his throat when out of nowhere a sword hilt descended on the soldier's head and he crumpled to the ground like a sail without wind.

"I told you not to ride alone outside the city."

* * *

It was Eomer. He stepped forward and spat on the motionless body at his feet.

"Eomer! What are you doing here?" Now that, I thought, was a stupid question. I should have known he would follow me.

"Saving your neck, apparently. What in Arda did you think you were doing, encouraging him like that? Why didn't you just tell him who you were?"

"I had the situation under control. I would have had him disarmed and tied up in no time if you hadn't arrived, for I have no wish to be dragged back to Dol Amroth like a prisoner in chains." I dropped to my knees and began searching the soldier for something to bind him with.

"What are you doing now?" Eomer whistled quietly and Wingfoot emerged from the trees.

Settling for his sword belt, I struggled to turn the soldier over onto his stomach. He was heavier than he looked. "I'm going to tie him up, of course. Otherwise he'll sound the alarm as soon as he wakes up and give a description of me to someone who will recognize it, and I shall be followed all the way home. This way I'll have a head start."

With a sigh, Eomer knelt beside me and easily flipped the soldier over. Wrenching the arms roughly out from under the man, Eomer bound his wrists tightly and started in on his ankles. My eyes fell on the quiver of arrows resting on the soldier's back.

"Eomer," I said quietly, taking one of the arrows out and holding it so it caught the moonlight, "Look!"

The pale beams of white light glanced off a polished black shaft and deadly sharp head. The arrow was fletched expertly with black feathers laced through with bright bronze wire.

"Whose soldier is this?" Eomer growled.

I was silent, staring in disbelief at the arrow.

"Lothiriel!" Eomer grabbed my shoulders and shook me gently. "You must tell me! Who commands this man?"

"No…it can't be." I muttered. "Father couldn't have known…I must tell him. He'll never make me…"

"Ria!" The King of Rohan held my face and forced me to look at him. "Who?"

"I can't believe it…it was Mutheia!"

"What? Who is Mutheia?" Eomer searched my face for an answer.

"Mutheia!" I practically shouted at him. "Mutheia, one of the most powerful men in Harad, father of Kutheia, ambassador to Dol Amroth and _my fiancee_!"


	14. Information

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I've been pretty busy, with two jobs for awhile, and other stuff, but anyway. Here 'tis! Hope you like :)

Arwen Elf: You are a goddess among mere mortals! Thank you so much for the in-depth reviews and encouragement.

* * *

Eomer was silent for a moment. "An _ambassador_ was behind this plot?"

"Technically, Mutheia isn't an ambassador. His son is, though, and Mutheia definitely controls Kutheia." I hesitated for a second, then continued. "It is likely that Kutheia knew about the attempt on your life and was involved in some way."

He sighed and stared at the ground. Then he looked up and caught the look on my face. "Ria…why on earth are you grinning?"

"I won't have to get married!" I said dreamily. "Although," I added, snapping out of my reverie, "I suppose that an attempted murderer is quite a bit more interesting than an ambassador. Perhaps I was too quick to judge Kutheia!"

"How can you jest at a time like this?" Eomer demanded.

"A time like this? Eomer, a King and a Princess are standing in the middle of the mountains, at night, next to the bound body of an unconscious Haradrim guard, having just found out that the Princess' fiancee was involved in a plan to kill the King. Don't you find that the least bit comical?" I crossed my arms and couldn't help smiling.

"No!" Eomer snapped. "I find it eminently frustrating that I can't ride down into that clearing, kill a couple men, and go home. Instead, I have to think of a way to get the Princess and the King to safety, find acceptable proof that the fiancee was behind the plot, send the proof to the Emperor of Harad so that the fiancee will be duly tried and executed, all the while dodging more attempts on my life that will likely occur. I don't think it's at all comical!"

I was about to retort with something along the lines of "worry about getting yourself out of here, this princess is not your responsibility" when there came a groan from the prone figure laying on the ground. Eomer and I both dropped to our knees on either side of the soldier and observed that he was regaining consciousness.

"Mightn't he know something useful?" I asked. Eomer nodded and, after sufficient time had passed for the man to come to his senses, began questioning him. The soldier put up a half-hearted struggle to retain what knowledge he had, but when Eomer casually threatened him with various retaliatory actions (all of which elicited glares from me) the words began flowing like Father's best Dorwinion during a festival.

Apparently, there had been a severe drought in Harad for many years now. People were starving, and the war-weakened country could not afford to buy food from other places for its citizens. The powerful Mutheia had decided to use this as an excuse to try to take over Rohan: the Mark's widespread grain and cattle farms would be useful in feeding the Haradrim. So Mutheia had sent an assassin to kill the King of Rohan just before his party arrived there. Under guise of 'helping right the country so recently deprived of its ruler,' the ambassadors would have established themselves as the power in Rohan.

However, Eomer did not die as planned, and Mutheia was forced to go to a backup plan. This one involved me.

"Kutheia is engaged to the Princess of Dol Amroth of Gondor, but the Princess, she ran away from him. Mutheia knows that she will return sometime. He has placed watchers all around the entrances to the city, and throughout it. She will not reach her home."

Eomer grasped the soldier roughly by the collar and pinned him to a tree trunk. "Why?"

"Her body is to be found raped and murdered in Rohan, and Kutheia will have just cause to go to war with the Horse-Lords."

* * *

I inhaled sharply. Eomer was dangerously still.

"Well," I stammered finally. "That was…enlightening. Now what?"

Eomer stood up, dropping the soldier to the grass. "We have lingered here too long." He said to me, then addressed the crouched man on the ground. "I care not what tale you tell your lord when he questions you, only that you tell him nothing for a time yet." Eomer gagged the soldier tightly, then dragged him into a clump of bushes nearby. With luck, he wouldn't be found for hours. Then, the King turned back to me.

"We must send word of this to your father before he hears a corrupted tale from these men. We cannot safely enter Dol Amroth, nor is there time to ride back to Edoras and send messengers from there. We will go to Minas Tirith."

"Yes," I agreed. "Father must be warned. If he falls into Mutheia's trap, he might well decide to go to war himself. What a disaster that would be for Dol Amroth, and for Rohan!"

Eomer narrowed his eyes. "For that to take place, you would have to be killed. Trust me, Ria, I have no intention of letting that happen. Do not worry." He led Wingfoot toward me. "Wingfoot can bear us both farther without rest than Gwen can carry you. She will find her way back to Edoras safely."

With reluctance, I let Gwen wander away northwards and mounted Wingfoot. Eomer swung up behind me.

"If I recall correctly, my lord, it was I who saved your life the last time we endured an assassination attempt. Therefore, I would not worry overmuch about my safety if I were you."

Eomer chuckled, the first sign of light-heartedness I had heard from him all night. "Oh, no, Ria. You won't be rid of me that easily."

"I know I shouldn't ask, but what do you mean?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight until your father personally takes you off my hands."

* * *

Dawn came and went, and soon afterwards even Wingfoot needed to stop for a break. We camped on the edge of a small stream, Eomer and I sitting next to the water while the horse grazed nearby.

"Did you mean what you said before you left Meduseld, Ria?" Eomer spoke, breaking the companionable silence that had surrounded us for some time in our lightly wooded glade.

"I recall saying a lot of things, Eomer. Which part are you referring to?" I replied, even though I knew the answer.

Eomer turned towards me. "You said that if you stayed another minute, you would fall in love with me."

His eyes, I mused, were like the deepest muddy pools in a bog. They sucked me in, under the depths, till I felt I couldn't breath, but instead of stopping, my heard only sped up. The brown color was akin to sanded, lacquered, polished mahogany, the kind that is made into furniture that is handed down through a family for generations. Or like fresh-tilled earth, just before the spring planting…

"Of course I meant it." I confessed. How could I not, with his eyes peering into my soul like that?

Eomer turned his head away from me, but didn't move from my side. I waited for his response.

Silence.

My heart fell. I had hoped, for a second, that he might break down and profess his undying devotion to my person…but no. No proclamation of noble regard, no declaration of everlasting passion. I blushed that I had dared to think he might feel something beyond lust for me, and I was glad he didn't see. In my mind's eye I curled back into myself like a hermit crab.

Then, without a word, without looking at me, Eomer reached over and took my hand. He brought it to his lips, turned it, and kissed the palm gently.

"We'd best be off." He said, getting to his feet and pulling me to mine as well.


	15. Traveling

**AN:** I know, I know, it's been over a week. I've been busy! Plus, plot bunnies are leaping around in my head like nobody's business, and I've been hard pressed to find the one I want to use. Anyway, thanks as always to my reviewers! I love you all, even soccer-bitch, who writes the same three lines every time. ;-)

* * *

Even hermit crabs come out of their shells when they get angry enough. I waited until we were again mounted on Wingfoot before I said my piece. That way, Eomer would be safely behind me and I wouldn't have to make eye contact. Body contact was another matter entirely. My bottom and back were already sore from riding all through the night in the cramped position I had assigned myself in order not to lean back against or touch Eomer any more than was strictly necessary. It didn't help that we were riding astride, which I was not used to doing for long periods of time. Our short break hadn't been nearly enough to alleviate my aching muscles.

"Is that all you have to say?" I smothered a wince as Wingfoot broke into stride.

"About what, Princess Lothiriel?" Eomer used my formal title for the first time in days, rather than sobriquet that even my father sometimes called me by. That irked me even more; was he purposely trying to build a wall between us?

"You know very well what. I practically tell you I'm falling in love with you, and you don't make any sort of comment! Even laughter would be preferable to silence. Don't you care at all?" Had I been standing, I would have crossed my arms across my chest. As it was, I settled for drawing my cloak tighter around my shoulders, giving away not only my insecurity, but also the chill creeping over me as dark storm clouds rolled down from the mountains.

Eomer sighed. "I'm trying to keep this from becoming complicated, Ri—Lothiriel."

"How is it complicated?" I shivered. The wind was picking up.

"You are a princess, that is how."

"So it wasn't complicated when I was merely your seamstress?" The morning sky, which had so very recently been robin's-egg blue, was now nearly as dark as my mood.

"Not nearly so much, no." Eomer broke off for a moment, then started again, hesitantly. "Matters of the heart are always complicated, but as my seamstress, I could have simply courted you for a bit, then either married you or not. Now that you're a princess, however, there are certain rules that have to be followed."

"R—r—rules? Like w—what?" I wasn't having much luck suppressing my shivers as the first drops of icy rain seemed to find every bit of exposed skin on my body.

"If you're cold, lean back." Eomer suggested. I shook my head no. He muttered, "stubborn female pride" then hooked one arm around my waist and pulled me backwards until my bottom was between his thighs and my back was snug against his chest. As if the new position wasn't disconcerting enough, Eomer opened up his cloak and wrapped it around me until it covered both of us. I was warm now. Oh, Valar, was I warm.

"You didn't answer my question." I said, trying to keep my mind off Eomer's nearness.

"Rules, of course." The King's voice came from directly behind and above my right ear. A shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature snaked down my spine. "Had I known you were a princess, I would never have spoken to you so…frankly as I have become accustomed to doing."

"I like it when you speak frankly." I interrupted. "It is a welcome change from polite discussion of the weather and the day's fishing prospects, which is all Kutheia and I ever talked about."

"Yes, well, I certainly hope I make better conversation than that selfish coward."

"You do." I noticed that Eomer's hand had not left my waist.

"Neither would I have been alone with you long enough to either instruct you in knife fighting or kiss you." He continued.

"So far you have only given me ways that courting becomes more complicated for members of the nobility. You have said nothing of your emotions, or even why you will not reveal them to me!" I tried to sit up straighter, but Eomer's arm kept me pinned to him. "Am I nothing to you? Merely another conquest you might have had, save for the unlikely circumstances of her birth?"

"No!" Eomer hissed vehemently into my ear. "I know not how, but you were different, Ria. From the very beginning. I'm a little preoccupied with an impending crisis right now, though, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't have my feelings sorted out. All right?"

"All right." I agreed, temporarily appeased. We rode in silence for a while, and I occupied myself by trying to find a more comfortable position as the rain continued to drizzle down from the bleak sky. It seemed impossible.

"How long will it take us to ride to Minas Tirith, Eomer?" I asked finally, shifting my weight again.

"We should be through these mountains by nightfall. After that, and a short rest, Wingfoot will earn his name, and we will hopefully reach Minas Tirith by sunset tomorrow. Will you stop wiggling around?" Eomer tightened his grip on my waist- again- and I caught my breath.

"I'm sorry." I said. "It's just that I'm not used to riding astride for so long…I know we can't stop."

"Lift your left leg over the saddle." Eomer ordered.

"Why?"

"It will be more comfortable."

Slowly, (it was tricky on a moving horse) I raised my left leg up over Wingfoot's back to dangle down his side next to my right leg. Oh, what blessed relief! My bottom was still aching, but having my knees together helped a great deal. Then Eomer hauled me backwards until I was practically sitting on his lap, which helped even more but did little to ease my embarrassment at such familiarity.

"I think this probably breaks about ten of the rules you were reciting earlier, my lord." I said in my best prissy-princess voice.

"Do you mind? I could think of something else…" Eomer began uncomfortably.

I laughed. "No, I don't mind. In fact, it's rather nice."

Had I just said that out loud? Oh, Valar, was I in trouble. With a small intake of breath, I decided to give in to the urge that was plaguing me. I slowly wound my arms around Eomer's waist and laid my head against his shoulder. He didn't push me away, so I relaxed.

"I take it you don't mind, either?" I asked.

"No," He said, sounding a little choked. "I don't mind at all."

* * *

Eomer thought he was dreaming, but he couldn't decide if it was a good dream or a nightmare. Riding to Minas Tirith with the most beautiful, desirable, spirited woman he had met in a long time- all right, perhaps ever, if one didn't count the Queen of Gondor's Elven beauty- was both an unprecedented delight and a torture beyond endurance. Delight because, well, Ria- Lothiriel, he corrected himself,- was the most beautiful, desirable, and spirited woman he had ever had the pleasure of becoming remotely involved with. The torture part stemmed from the fact that, unlike most of the other women he had wooed over the years, he couldn't have her.

All right, he admitted to himself, he could have her- but he would have to marry her first. Marriage frightened Eomer more than any battle ever had. It demanded the kind of love that would last beyond the boundaries of this world, commitment from both parties to try to make a lasting partnership even through the trials that would undoubtedly come. The kind of relationship that his parents had had. That had killed his mother.

Eomer recalled the day the messengers had arrived from Dol Amroth, proposing a political union between Lothiriel of Dol Amroth and himself. The thought of an arranged marriage had disgusted him…how could Imrahil make something political out of so sacred a vow? His parents would have died for each other, and the young King of Rohan had promised himself that he would marry for no less than that.

Had she really been a seamstress, he thought, he could have courted Ria until he was sure. When he knew the truth of his regard for her, he would have either proposed to her or gently parted ways. Yet Ria was a princess, and he knew his day of reckoning was coming. They would eventually reach Dol Amroth, the matter of Mutheia and his son would be settled, and he would have to either ask for Lothiriel's hand or watch her be married off to some other nobleman, who might perhaps be worse than Kutheia.

She admitted that she loved him, but she would do her duty and marry the man her father chose for her. That he knew. He could save her from the fate of spending the rest of her life trying to love someone she did not, or he could walk out of her life forever.

Which would he choose?

* * *

An: Again, sorry it took so long. If you review, I would really appreciate advice on how to make Ria and Eomer's feelings for each other seem more real, as well as, well, how long it takes to ride from Edoras to Minas Tirith. Merci Beaucoup, mes amis! A tout a l'heure!


	16. Minas Tirith

Author: Wow. I just saw Cold Mountain. Very good movie! I mean, even if they _hadn't_ had the uber-hot Jude Law in it, it would've been good. Not _as _good, but still good. Then, the next night, I watched The Notebook. Chick Flick overload alert!I usually don't like sad movies, but this one left me wanting to write so badly, it was weird! Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure what's going to come next, but I guess I'll wing it ;)

Thankyouthankyouthankyou reviewers!!! ::orders pizza for everyone::

* * *

"I can't help but notice that you don't seem the least bit affected by our long ride, Eomer." I said as I stretched my sore muscles by walking back and forth between the two massive pine trees that grew at the northern and southern ends of our campsite. "Either that, or you hide it well."

"I have ridden in many campaigns, Princess. I am used to working through discomfort." Eomer was busying himself by giving Wingfoot a rubdown. I carefully walked over to stand next to him. From there, I could see that he was not entirely unstrained. His face was pale, and he was oh-so-slightly favoring his right arm. I noted with alarm the small spot of blood on his shirt at the left shoulder.

"Eomer!" I shrieked.

He put his hand at his side and half-drew his sword, peering into the trees, instantly on guard. "What is it?"

I yanked him backwards until he was standing fully in the golden light of the setting sun. "Why in the blazes didn't you mention that your wound wasn't fully healed? By the Valar…you're bleeding! There's no way in Arda you should be riding so strenuously as we have been! Sit down." I ordered shrewishly, but I didn't care about the tone of voice I used. Eomer looked at me in bewilderment, then slowly sat down on the needle-covered earth.

"I just need to change the bandage…" He protested. I glared him into silence, muttering about the stubborn idiocy of arrogant, foolhardy Kings of Rohan while I searched Wingfoot's saddlebags for ointment and dressings. Luckily, I found both. "It's a good thing you're not wearing full armor," I remarked as I grappled with Eomer's jerkin and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Your arm would never have born the weight."

I paused for a moment when the first patch of bare skin appeared below Eomer's throat between the parted sides of his white shirt. It occurred to me that I was, for all intents and purposes, undressing the man. Alone. In the wilderness.

And he certainly wasn't weak enough not to notice.

I shook my head briskly and resumed my task with an air of professionalism that belied my racing pulse. Nonsense. I was nursing a wounded soldier back to health; re-bandaging him for his own good. Surely there wasn't anything improper about that? At least, nothing worse than the things I had already done with him.

"I am perfectly capable of doing this myself, you know." Eomer pointed out as I pushed his shirt over his firm shoulder, trying my utmost not to dwell on his beautifully defined pectorals, biceps, triceps and, well, everything.

I swallowed. _Wounded! Poor, battle-scarred weakened soldier who needs his injury cleaned and tended._ He didn't look very weakened.

"Nonsense. You've had a long ride the past day, and goodness knows how long you chased me before that. You never should have left Edoras…" I carefully unwound the slightly bloodied dressing from around Eomer's shoulder and tossed it aside.

"Neither should you!" He interjected with a wince. "What were you thinking, riding off alone, in the middle of the night? Do you know what would have happened if I hadn't come along in time to get rid of that soldier? Do you have any idea how reckless you were?"

How had our conversation changed so swiftly from my scolding to his? "As I said before, I had the situation entirely under control. You are overreacting. You're liable to start bleeding again if you don't calm down…" I began cleaning Eomer's wound with some salve he had brought with him.

"Calm down?" Eomer said raspily. "If you want me to calm down, you have to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" I asked as I wound a new bandage across his shoulder. To secure it, I had to wrap it twice around Eomer's chest. This required that I reach my arms all the way around him. _Wounded! Poor, battle-scarred, weakened soldier who needs his injury cleaned and tended…not a dangerously attractive, half-naked warrior at all._

"That." Said the King as I finished bandaging his shoulder and tied the ends of the strips together. I paused, mesmerized by the heat in his brown gaze. My hands were still resting on his chest.

"We can only rest for a few hours. I suggest you get some sleep." Eomer spoke softly, a few inches from my face. Reluctantly, I backed away and allowed him to put his shirt back on.

We slept on opposite sides of the clearing.

* * *

The ride to Minas Tirith was uneventful. It took us two more days to reach the city, nearly all of which were spent on horseback. Despite our physical nearness, however, I could feel Eomer withdrawing from the camaraderie that we had enjoyed briefly in Edoras. He was distant; he spoke to me only when it was necessary. I was hurt, and I couldn't fathom what might be behind his change of heart. He still wanted me, I could tell that from the way he watched me when we camped, but it was as though he wouldn't let himself become close to me. I got the distinct impression that he didn't want to encourage my feelings for him, which was too damn bad because they were already as encouraged as they were likely to get, I thought. Still, I had too much pride to broach the topic, so we rode on in silence until we reached the proud stronghold of Gondor.

The moon hung high in the sky when we rode into Minas Tirith. All around us white stone glimmered in the starlight, and quiet streets wound away amidst the signs of rebuilding that were to be seen everywhere. The guards at each level's Gate allowed us to pass unhindered. Soon we were before the King's Citadel, riding arrow-straight towards…

"Eomer!" I hissed. "Where are we going? The Palace is that way!" Somehow, the grand luminosity of the city seemed to call for whispers, at least during the night.

"The stables, of course." Eomer said quietly.

"In case you have forgotten, we are here to avert a war. Surely there is a groom about who can see to Wingfoot!"

"Nothing," he said with conviction, "Is ever so important that a man can't take care of the comfort of his horse after a long journey."

Once Wingfoot had been properly pampered, we finally set out to find King Elessar. Passing beneath the archway, we headed toward the entrance to the Great Hall. I had been here before, years ago, when only the first shadows of war had been stretching towards Gondor, yet even so the place seemed more alive, night though it was, than it had under the Stewards' Rule. Grandiose and beautiful as Minas Tirith was, I could not help but compare it in my mind to the warm, friendly Golden Hall of Meduseld.

Two door wardens clad in black livery stopped us before the wide doors. "What business brings two strangers to the Citadel at such an hour?"

"We wish an audience with the King, late though it be. Inform Elessar that the King of Rohan has arrived." Eomer's manner was prouder and more lordly than I had yet seen from him. In that moment I was reminded that this man was, indeed, a King in his own right, and I wondered that I had so easily jested with and commanded him.

"If you are indeed the King of Rohan, you come with a strange retinue." The taller of the two guards said suspiciously, looking me up and down.

Eomer twisted a large gold ring off his right hand and handed it to the guard. I saw that it was set with emeralds and bore a running horse carved across the top. It looked ancient. "Here is my seal," Eomer said.

The guard took it and turned to go inside. The rest of us stood in silence as we waited for his return. It was not long.

"Please follow me, sir." A man, perhaps my father's age and who reminded me of his steward, bowed us into the Great Hall. Halbarad came to mind as well. We followed the stranger past the royal dais into the private hallways of the palace.

"I am Glarius, head of the staff of the Citadel." The man said as he conducted us into a smallish sitting room. I was impressed: there was a tray of hot tea and cakes waiting for us. "Please, make yourselves at home. The King will be with you shortly." Glarius quietly took his leave.

Eomer sank with a tired sigh onto a padded chair. His face, I noticed, was paler than it should be. Shaking my head, (stubborn man!) I poured myself a cup of tea and inhaled the aromatic steam with relish while I carefully selected something large and fruit-filled from the cake-plate.

Of course, King Elessar entered as soon as I had taken a particularly unladylike bite of light, fluffy golden crust and tart strawberries.

Elessar Telcontar was very slightly taller than Eomer, but not quite so broadly built. He had medium-length dark hair and a short beard. His demeanor was quiet and alert, with the sort of unconsciously noble bearing that, despite his completely genuine friendliness, would never leave you in any doubt as to the extent of his distinguished lineage. The King was wearing a simple black tunic and tights, emblazoned with the White Tree and stars. Uncombed hair was the only sigh that he had been asleep, and his eyes were clear, not sleep-fogged.

"Eomer!" The King exclaimed with a smile, but his eyes were concerned. "It is of course a pleasure to see you again, though I cannot help but wonder what brings you here in such a manner."

"Not what, who." Eomer answered. He gestured to me, and I curtsied when the King saw me, ever conscious of my travel-stained, plain, gray dress and unwashed hair, not to mention my full mouth. "Aragorn, this is Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth. No doubt you have heard of her."

* * *

**Author:** I know, I know...not a lot happened in this chapter. Pointless fluff followed by travel. BUT the next chapter should be verra verra exciting. Hopefully :)


	17. The Plan

Authoress: Woot! Thanks for all the great reviews, guys. They rock! Hope you enjoy this chapter, I enjoyed writing it. :-)

* * *

Watching King Elessar's face, I got the feeling that if he had been less of a well-bred, noble, lordly gentleman his jaw would have dropped. As it was, though, he merely raised his eyebrows a fraction of an inch and took a breath.

"Well! That does put an interesting spin on things." Elessar said to me quietly before turning to glare at Eomer. "Mind telling me what you're doing with her? Alone?"

"Not what you think." Eomer snorted. To my amazement, I saw that he had again dropped the regal bearing that he had impressed the guards with. Elessar, too, was acting decidedly less formal. Goodness, they were conversing like two good friends would talk down at a tavern, not like kings at all! "She ran away from home," Eomer continued, "This I am sure you know. What you do not know is that the Princess of Dol Amroth came to Rohan, impersonated a seamstress and found employment in Meduseld, of all places!"

Eventually, the entire story came out. How I had saved Eomer's life, run off into the night, and what Mutheia's sentry had said all were reported to King Elessar. When the full extent of the ambassadors' plotting became known, Elessar's face darkened.

"This is treachery." He said gravely. "It must be reported to the Emperor of Harad, of course, but we have no proof. Not to mention Mutheia will suspect a counter-plot, for his soldier will have told him that he was caught." Elessar sighed. "I don't suppose either of you has an idea?"

By that time I was quite tired and leaning my head against the back of the comfortable sofa I had seated myself on. Closing my eyes, I murmured that I just wanted to go home, for it all to be over. Something clicked in my head.

"That's it!" I cried, leaping to my feet. "So simple, it just might work!"

"What might work?" Eomer asked suspiciously.

I began pacing. "I'll ride back into Dol Amroth just as I would have if Eomer hadn't caught me. When Mutheia's men kidnap me, you'll see where I'm taken and come rescue me if I can't escape myself! 'Twill be more than enough proof to have Mutheia and Kutheia sent back to Harad." Stopping, I looked at the two men in the room. Neither one was smiling. Elessar looked pensive and concerned…Eomer was flabbergasted.

"Tell me," Elessar began after a moment of silence had passed, "If Mutheia is aware that we know of his plans (For he will surely assume that after he finds his sentry), what makes you think that he will fall into your trap?"

Eomer leapt to his feet, interrupting my answer. "Aragorn, you cannot tell me you are actually considering this? It is madness! How many things could go wrong? That bastard could kill Ria before we had the chance to get to her!"

Agape, I turned to face Eomer. "It is a good plan!" I protested. "When I ride back towards Dol Amroth, Mutheia and Kutheia will simply assume that I have not heard of their schemes and hasten to intercept me. You can have a company of soldiers waiting nearby, one of whom should follow me discreetly and send word when and if I am taken. The second I am approached by anyone you can ride out, if you wish." Arms crossed defiantly, waited for the rebuttal I knew would come. It was as if Elessar had disappeared, and Eomer was the only one I had to convince.

"Absolutely not." He snapped. "I forbid it."

I gasped in disbelief. "You forbid it? Who are you to forbid me anything?"

"She has a point, Eomer." Elessar's voice came, soft and amused, from behind us. It was ignored.

"I am responsible for you, Ria!" At least he wasn't using my full name now. Small victory, but still…"I cannot…will not let you risk your life like it is of no value on another one of your bloody adventures!" Eomer cried.

"You know nothing of my life!" I shot back. "You live in a country where people are wild, and free. In Rohan I made my own choices, paid or reaped the consequences, and made friends! Friends, Eomer! I have lived my entire life in Dol Amroth without so many friends as I had in Edoras. There was never time for them on the schedule. Ladies in waiting, noblewomen at festivals…their power-hungry ways are not those of true friends." A tear found its way to my cheek and I wiped it away angrily. "I know my problems are small compared to the intricacies of ruling a country, but I am more than capable of handling them myself. Since you apparently care nothing for me beyond that I am a problem that will not go away, I fail to see how I am your responsibility at all!"

"That's just the problem!" Eomer began, but Elessar cut him off.

"I fear you are losing sight of the subject, my friend." He said, putting a hand on Eomer's shoulder. "The Princess will never be truly safe until this problem is taken care of. We must act quickly before Mutheia has time to regroup and think of another plan. Therefore, and with the assurance that she will have every possible precaution taken for her safety, it is my council that we adopt Lothiriel's plan to trap Mutheia."

Eomer gave more protest, of course. We sat in the room for another two hours at least, convincing him before we could fine-tune the details of the plan. Eventually, everything was settled and we were escorted off to bed to get some much-needed sleep. Glarius gave me a large, finely appointed room next to Eomer's, and after the two Kings themselves had checked it (a little overly carefully, I thought) for hazards, I was allowed to sink into a blissfully hot bath.

Immersed in sudsy, lilac-scented water, I soaked away the effects that five days of travel had left on my skin and hair. I put on the exquisite black and white silk dressing gown that had been left for me, hopped onto bed, and contemplated the glorious prospect of sleeping until noon the next day, for we were not leaving until the day after. I leaned back with a peaceful sigh onto the many feather-stuffed pillows and drew the light down coverlet over my body…

Then came a soft knock on the door.

* * *

_Eomer couldn't sleep._

It was ironic, he knew, that though he was in a safe place, in the care of a dear friend, freshly bathed and lying on a soft bed, for the first time in days, sleep evaded him. He tossed and turned, Ria's face flashing behind his closed eyes. Over and over in his mind, she wiped a tear from her cheek.

He had made her cry.

I am a cad, he thought to himself. No, lower than that. I am a coward. I let a woman cry because I am too fearful to tell her I care for her. How can I allow her to go back to that life that so haunts her?

Eomer knew what he had to do. Gathering his courage, he climbed out of bed and put on the light robe he had thrown over a chair earlier. Bare feet quietly padding on the marble floor, he walked next door and knocked on Ria's door.

(**AN:** I was going to be really mean and cut off the chapter here, but then I decided you guys have been too nice for me to do that to you ;))

* * *

It was Eomer.

I clutched the sides of my dressing gown together at my throat. Good grief, I must look a sight. Hair wet and mussed, clad in a borrowed robe.

_She looked so beautiful, Eomer thought wistfully when Ria opened her door. Wet hair clung to her neck and fell down her back, dark and velvety in the lamplight. Her black and white robe clung to her skin, accentuating her figure. The scent of lilacs floated off her skin. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and make love to her, but he knew he could not. If- when?- he made Ria his, it would be forever, not for one night she would regret in the morning._

Forever? Was that, then, what he wanted? A strange sense of peace came over Eomer. He thought of waking up next to Ria for the rest of their lives, of little children with sky-blue eyes and dark reddish-brown hair.

"Eomer?" I asked when he only stared at me, a strange look in his brown eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I…I came to apologize." He said finally. "I upset you earlier, and though it stemmed from concern, I feel badly for doing so."

Surprised, I only nodded. There was an awkward silence while we looked at each other in my doorway. Finally, Eomer cleared his throat and turned to go.

He stopped and came back, stepping inside my room this time and taking both my hands in his.

"There is something else, Ria. If you think, as you said earlier, that I care nothing for you beyond the problems you have caused for me…you are wrong. I do care for you. I care a great deal, and I am only beginning to realize how much."

Eomer's kiss that time was soft and gentle, a promise of things to come that conveyed more than words his feelings for me. He held my hands throughout, not allowing me to wrap my arms around him. When he drew back, he smiled down at me.

Then he was gone.

* * *

AN: Alrighty! Next up, The Execution of The Plan! :D


	18. Gardens

Author: Here I go again…thanks for the reviews! Love y'all. Sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been distracted lately by a certain guy I work with...sigh

* * *

It took me a long time to get to sleep that night, despite my fatigue. Eomer loved me! All right, he 'cared' for me…but coming from him it was as good as the L word. I lay in bed, grinning up at the molded ceiling for what seemed like hours. Would he ask me to marry him? Did he truly love me, or was he just trying to have his way with me? What would Father say? I thought guiltily of the family I had left in Dol Amroth. They must be worried about me, but surely Father wou7ld be appeased with the possibility of Eomer as a son-in-law…

Finally I drifted off to pleasant dreams. Dreams that were filled with wildflowers, golden-haired brown-eyed children, and Eomer.

* * *

Bright sunlight fell through the high southward-facing windows that opened onto a balcony overlooking Minas Tirith. It splashed lightly down onto my bed, waking me gently from deep slumber. Utterly relaxed, I opened my eyes and looked around the room I had been too tired to appreciate the night before.

The walls were sponged a deep gold over bright yellow paint. The ceiling was elegantly molded, and the wooded trim was painted white. It was a large chamber, with a massive fireplace taking up most of the eastern wall, a tall armoire and matching carved dresser occupying the northern end. My bed was tucked against the southwest corner, flanked by tables bearing huge bouquets of yellow and white roses. Several paintings of ships hung on the walls, and a thick carpet of white, woven in the shape of a flower, covered the floor. Altogether it was a bright, cheerful sort of room, and it suited me wonderfully. I was only sorry I would not be staying in it longer!

Horrified, I realized that I was a guest of the King and I was lying about in sloth. Goodness- I looked through gauzy curtains out the windows- it must be two in the afternoon, and I was still abed! What would Elessar think of me? I hurriedly threw back the covers and got out of the exceedingly comfortable bed, Rushing to a wash basin set on a pedestal table in front of the hearth, I frantically scrubbed my face and began yanking a comb through my hair.

"Oh, good, you're awake!" I turned to see the owner of that calm, musical voice just entering the room. It was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, not a creature at all, but an elf-woman. Arwen Undomiel, wife of Elessar and queen of Gondor. She had midnight hair and dark eyes, paired with very delicate features and pale skin. A thin circlet of mithril and pearl was set about her head, and she was dressed in a lovely blue robe embroidered with white stars.

"My lady," I curtsied. "Please forgive my appearance, and my idleness through the morning, I fear I overslept…"

"Nonsense." Queen Arwen waved aside my apology. "I expect you have ridden yourself half to death these past few days, you deserve as much rest as you need. However," She glided to the armoire and threw open its doors. "I took the liberty of unpacking what few things you had with you, and neither of your dresses are suitably, shall we say, wearable today, so I came to help you dress. I hope you don't mind?"

"N- not at all, my lady." I stammered, watching in fascination as Arwen produced a magnificent array of dresses, all miraculously in my size, from the wardrobe. She selected a leaf-green gown with a gently flaring skirt and thin sleeves. Before I knew it, I was dressed and sitting at the table eating spiced fruit while the Queen of Gondor did my hair. Quite surreal.

Arwen kept up a steady stream of conversation throughout. She was really a very friendly, kind lady, I thought, despite her nobility and lineage, rather like the King in that respect. Before long I was considering her a friend. When she finished with my hair (It was in a lovely assortment of braids and curls pinned to fall around my face just so) she escorted me through the palace to the throne room, where Elessar and Eomer were stooping over a table full of maps and charts.

"Ah, the lady is awake at last! Good afternoon, Lothiriel." The King greeted me with a warm smile.

"Please, my lord, call me Ria. 'Tis what my family has named me for short. And I do apologize for sleeping so long, I'm afraid I was tired after the journey…" Once again, my explanation was cut short.

"Not at all, I would have been upset if you hadn't slept late! Now then, Eomer and I are looking over the terrain charts concerning Dol Amroth to better plan our trap. Is there anything we are missing?" Elessar indicated a large, detailed map spread in front of him. I stole a glance at Eomer, who was being uncharacteristically quiet, as I bent over the chart. He was studying me intently- or rather, my dress. I remembered that he had never seen me in nice clothes before and blushed.

"Good afternoon, Eomer." I smiled shyly. Just how public was he going to be about our new…dare I call it an 'understanding?'

"Ria." Eomer nodded at me. "You look…beautiful." The words spilled from his mouth as though he hadn't meant to say them. I blushed a deeper red.

"Thank you. After so long wearing the same two dresses, I must admit it is nice to be garbed in something different!" I tore my eyes away from Eomer long enough to smile in thanks at Arwen, who was watching my exchange with the King of Rohan rather amusedly.

"It suits you." Eomer added simply, taking my hand unobtrusively as we again studied the maps. I marveled at their accuracy. Each ridge, hill, and stream for five leagues around Dol Amroth was noted on the parchment. Elessar pointed to a small rise just to the east of the main city gate.

"I think this would be a good spot for the troops to hide. From here we should be able to see you, Princess, and we will be close enough to come immediately to your aid at the first sign of trouble. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds fine, my lord. I don't foresee any problems." I stole a glance at Eomer. Someone had seen to it that he received clean clothing as well. Black leggings and boots, a crisp white shirt and silvery tunic, paired with clean, tied-back hair made him look every inch the king.

Elessar nodded. "Excellent. Well, then, now that that's settled, I have an expedition to arrange, so if you will excuse me?" With a smile, he took his leave. Eomer and I stood next to each other in silence for a moment.

"What- " He began

"Did you-? " I said at the same time. We both laughed. "You go ahead." I offered.

"No, you." Eomer insisted

"Perhaps," Arwen suggested with a twinkle in her eyes. "You would like a walk through the gardens?"

* * *

The gardens of the King in Minas Tirith were, to my eyes, like a piece of Valinor in Middle-Earth. Trees and flowers I had never seen before bloomed side by side with native plants. An entire walled section was dedicated to roses, and I recognized the bushes from which the flowers in my room had been plucked. Paths twined leisurely through plot after plot, past fountains and benches, under trellises and over small brooks. Tucked away in one corner of the vast complex of gardens was my favorite piece: a delightful tangle of wildflowers surrounding a small green pool. Alone, (Arwen having pleaded a previous engagement, though not without a wink at me) Eomer and I sat by the pool.

"It's lovely here." I said, dipping my bare feet into the water. It was warm from the sun.

"Yes. It reminds me of that little patch of wildflowers we found you in the midst of. You looked so beautiful sitting there, it was like walking into a song."

I melted. He was good.

"I hope I did not wake you last night?" Eomer continued, taking my hand.

"No." I hesitated before blurting out, "And it would have been worth it, even if you had interrupted my sleep."

"I meant it, Ria. I care about you a great deal." Eomer rose and tugged me to my feet. "The more I think about you riding into danger in a few days, the less I like it, but I know you feel you need a chance at some sort of vengeance. I will say no more on this matter. However," He knelt in front of me, both my hands captured in his. "There is some risk involved in our plan. If something were to happen, I would not have you left wondering, whether in the face of your danger or mine, what the depth of my regard for you is. So I, Eomer Eadig son of Eomund, Lord of the Mark, do ask you, Lothiriel Princess of Dol Amroth of Gondor, will you do me the highest honor and become my wife?"


	19. The Plan is Executed

**Author:** I need to hurry up and finish this so I can concentrate on my summer homework! LOL, but I can't, it's too much fun. I shall miss it when it's over...sniff As always, the reviews were awesome. You guys ROCK!

OK, this chapter is kind of choppy and whatnot, so I apologize. I might go back and try to rework it later, but for the moment, I just needed to get it out of the way. Cheers :)

* * *

_'Cause I'm broken _

_When I'm lonesome _

_And I don't feel right _

_When you've gone away _

_The worst is over now, _

_And we can breathe again _

_I wanna hold you I_

_ am still your pain_

* * *

It was one of the few times in my life when I have been at a loss for words. My heart was screaming "YES!" drowning out my mind's protests. He has to get Father's permission first...This is all very sudden, don't you think?

I believe I stepped out of my body for a moment...instead of living it, I watched the scene acted out by players. I saw the handsome man drop to his knees and look plaintively up at the lady in the green dress. He spoke, her mouth fell open, and he waited. She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. Shifting her hands from his grip, she clasped his wrists and raised him to his feet until they were eye to eye. Then, speaking clearly but softly, she spoke one word.

"Yes."

With a rush like that of a great wave hitting a rocky cliff, I was back. There were Eomer's eyes gazing down at me, full of love. There were his hands, now wrapped around my arms, pulling me towards him. There was his mouth, smiling with relief, bending to kiss me. Of the kisses Eomer had given me thus far, this one was the most intense, if it was possible to be more so than the others. Untamed, unhindered passion flew between us, racing from every place we touched through our bodies. I was wrapped securely in Eomer's strong, sure arms, his hands sweeping up and down my back while I clutched at his shoulders. Yet amidst our fevered frenzy of touch there was a deeper gentleness and caring; it was love.

Before I knew it we had tumbled, laughing, to the ground. Pinned underneath Eomer, I gave myself over to the delirious ecstasy of being in love. The sky seemed bluer, the flowers painted brighter hues. He gently pulled his fingers through my hair, divesting it of the carefully positioned coiffure Arwen had worked so hard on. I didn't care; Eomer's pleasure was much more important, somehow, than appearances. Still kissing me madly, his hand began to creep its way underneath my skirt. Ah, bliss.

"I love you so, Eomer." I sighed against his lips.

He froze. "And I love you, Ria." With a frustrated but somehow resigned sigh he rolled off me. I reluctantly roused myself from the sensual stupor that had clouded my thoughts and sat up.

"Why did you stop?" I blushed but asked anyway.

Eomer chuckled. "Rest assured, it is not as though I wanted to. I would like nothing better than to make love to you here and now...but it is better if we do not."

"Why? If we are to be married anyway..."

"It is a matter of principle. Besides, you deserve more than a tumble on the ground. Our wedding night will be full of flowers, candlelight, wine..." As he spoke, Eomer crept closer, mesmerizing me with his breath against my neck. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but... "Eomer! Stop tickling me!" I shrieked

* * *

The rest of the day and night passed all too quickly in a haze of excitement. We romped for a while longer in the gardens, flirting and teasing each other mercilessly. Then there was dinner with Elessar and Arwen, who were not at all surprised to hear our news. The evening was spent perfecting our plans to trap Mutheia. Eomer's mood darkened somewhat, and he again protested my involvement in the scheme. He was somewhat appeased only when Elessar pointed out that he could act as our lookout, and therefore be closer to me than anyone else.

We departed Minas Tirith with a company of 50 soldiers early the next morning. At Osgiliath we boarded a great ship to sail the Anduin to the Bay of Belfalas and thence to Dol Amroth. For two days we traveled on board the vessel. The men, I think grew bored of the inactivity, and I know Eomer was uneasy without the firm ground under his feet, but I tried my best to distract him. After all, there are many nooks and crannies on board a ship, many of which provide excellent privacy for a recently engaged couple.

It was nearing dawn on the third day when there came a tapping on my cabin door.

"Princess Lothiriel, my lord sends word that it is time." A voice called. I hastily threw on my plain gray dress and tied back my hair. Soon I was standing on deck, waiting to disembark. Eomer found me and came to stand by my side.

"Ria..." He began.

"Don't even say it." I interrupted. "I want to do this, I will be quite all right, nothing is going to happen."

Eomer sighed. "I love you, Ria. Promise me you won't take any chances. If anything goes wrong, scream, run away, do whatever it takes to get away. Proof of Mutheia's plot is not so important as your life."

"I promise." In a few more minutes I was off the ship and mounted on a decent mare that Elessar had brought from Minas Tirith. She wasn't nearly as nice as Gwen had been, and I found myself missing the insanely fast horse I had ridden so often in Rohan.

It was still dark enough for the soldiers to inconspicuously walk up to the wooded hill that we had chosen for the endeavor. The northeastern gate of Dol Amroth glinted in the first light of dawn. Eomer, now dressed like a simple farmer (with a long cloak hiding his sword) leaned down from Wingfoot to kiss me. He rode slowly off along the road, winding his way towards the city. When he reached his mark, a twisted old oak tree halfway between the hill and Dol Amroth, he stopped to fake watering his horse. That was my signal to get moving.

With a deep breath, I straightened my back and rode briskly towards the gates of my home city. Following the procedure we had laid out, I ignored Eomer as I passed him. At that point, though, I really began to get nervous. Somewhere between here and the entrance to the city, I would be attacked or accosted by someone, somehow. What if they decided to kill me on the spot? What if Eomer couldn't get to me in time to help? What if Mutheia or Kutheia had gotten word through that the whole plan was off, and they had something else in mind?

The silver-laced gates of Dol Amroth loomed ahead. Twice the height of a man, thick with reinforced wood and steel, they were nonetheless a pale shadow of the grandeur of the gate that guarded Minas Tirith. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, lighting the towers and peaks of the city from behind. The sight should have filled me with pleasure, a sense of coming home...yet it did not. I was alone. Eomer was not there to share the beauty of the dawn.

There was a sound behind me. I reigned in my horse and turned swiftly to see three men ride out of nowhere on the black steeds of the south. They were clad in black, with dark paint on their faces. No wonder I hadn't noticed them sooner. Panic threatened to overtake me as instinct fought against my knowledge that I was safe. The first of the attackers reached my right side and grabbed my horse's bridle.

"If you value your life you will not scream." Thickly accented, the voice of the second man came from my left as the last rider drew up in front of me. The mare I was on sensed my unease and fidgeted. When I tried to regain my balance, I noticed the knife at my throat.

"Who are you?" I asked nervously, fighting for time.

Where was Eomer?

* * *

_He saw the three men ride out of the shadows flanking the city gate. Mounting his horse, Eomer prepared to race towards Ria at the first sign of trouble...to acquire enough 'proof', they had to wait until she was actually threatened to rescue her. _

_Damn! He couldn't see! Why wouldn't they back off a little? What were they doing? Why hadn't Ria screamed or fled yet? A beam of sunlight at last made its way through the morning, reflecting off every window in its path. That first light illuminated the swords hanging at the sides of the black-clad riders. It revealed the wire fletchings of the arrows hanging on their backs, and every piece of trim on their horses' tack. Perhaps, if he had been waiting at any other vantagepoint, the riders would have blocked Eomer's view of the scene unfolding before his eyes. Luckily, he could just see between two of the men. The light shone on something else. _

_Rage such as he had never before known heated Eomer's blood. There was a dagger resting against Ria's neck, and one of the men had roughly wrenched her arms behind her back. _

_His angry cry pierced the morning. Behind the rise, Aragorn heard it and gave the signal to move out. Fifty of Gondor's finest soldiers, mounted on the country's best horses poured out of the trees. In Dol Amroth, a guard on the outer wall heard the commotion and send a messenger to the Prince, himself staying to watch the intriguing sight. There was a man in front of all the other soldiers, riding like the wind toward three foreign-looking travelers. The light of dawn fell on him, a warrior equal to the great lord of old, mounted on a mighty steed, and it seemed to the guard the there were wings on the_ _horse's hooves._


	20. The Plan goes Awry

AN: ::sneaks in, hiding from angry reviewers:: Right. It's been waaaay too long, I know. I've been busy! Really…I hope this chapter is good enough to make up for my long absence.

* * *

In front of the mare, the third of my attackers looked around us observantly. His piercing black eyes finally came to rest on me.

"You are the Princess Lothiriel, are you not?"

Remembering the knife at my throat, I merely nodded.

"You are wise to cooperate with us. This can either be quick and painless or long and drawn out. Your behavior will determine the ending of your life." As Black Eyes spoke, he shifted his weight. I managed a discrete glimpse towards the oak tree.

I was debating taking matters into my own hands and abandoning the entire plan when an enraged battle cry split the morning air. All three of the Haradrim snapped their attention northwards, where a shaft of light lent an otherworldly glow to the lone rider galloping out of the shadows. Relief calmed my nerves.

Black Eyes uttered what I guessed was a curse in Haradric. My language lessons had never taught me such words. I understood his instructions to the other two, though. "Ride hard away from this place. In two days, try to get word to Our Lord. I shall stay and hold them off with the threat of her death."

As the two assassins nodded and fled, I was tempted to follow suit, but the mare I was riding would not have outrun Black Eyes' stallion for any amount of time. Instead, I found myself hauled off of my horse and yanked painfully to sit in front of the man himself, his dagger firmly pressed to my neck.

"If you so much as breathe deeply, you're dead, Princess." He hissed in my ear.

"Somehow I doubt that. Do not forget, I am your only leverage. Kill me and they will only end your life as well." Oh, dear. There I went again, speaking before I thought.

"If you value her life, you will not come any nearer!" My captor shouted.

Eomer halted abruptly, about ten feet in front of us. At his upraised fist, the troops coming behind stopped their approach. His eyes met mine, and I saw both his fury and his fear for me.

"Tell them to lower their bows"

"Let her go. She is not the one you were sent to waylay." The look on Eomer's face was startling in its intensity. I remembered Eowyn's claim that her brother was the third-best warrior she had ever seen, and wondered who the other two could be.

"Oh? Well, then, I should dispose of this worthless baggage…" I winced as the knife cut into my skin. Eomer could not hide his look of horror.

"Ah, so she does mean something to you." Black Eyes pronounced smugly.

Eomer started to say something, but I interrupted him. "I am but a…a seamstress in the King's household. They needed someone to play the part of a princess. I volunteered."

"You would do well to remain silent." The man's right arm was wrapped around my waist, pinning my hand to my side. He addressed Eomer again, obviously still buying time for his friends. "A seamstress, eh? No, too pretty for a mere servant. I suspect you were his concubine as well."

A sound very like a growl escaped Eomer's throat. His hand went to his sword-hilt. I sincerely hoped he would not do anything stupid in a misguided attempt to protect my reputation. Could he not see that he was being goaded into action?

"Release her!"

"Perhaps." Black Eyes said. "After I have….sampled her wares." His hand slid up my waist to harshly grip my breast. Bastard.

In a blinding flash of knowledge, I remembered the knife up my sleeve. Feeling like an idiot for not having recalled it sooner, I tried to think of a way to free my right arm enough to get it out.

"Eomer, remember the first time. Don't do anything stupid." I pleaded, hoping he would realize what I meant by 'the first time', and that I had my dagger with me. I wiggled the fingers on my right hand slightly. His eyes narrowed.

"Shut your mouth, girl."

Suddenly, Eomer's eyes widened again and his mouth turned up in what might, under other circumstances, have been considered a slight smile. "But I will still owe you a debt, my Lady."

"What are you talking about?" Black Eyes asked angrily.

"'Tis a private matter." Eomer replied.

The Southerner grunted suspiciously. "No matter. I have need of a faster horse, yours will do. Dismount!" Eomer complied much too easily, but Black Eyes didn't seem to notice. "Now send him to me."

Eomer did so, fully grinning now. As Wingfoot approached us, his master gave a short, high whistle. The horse reared up on his hind legs. Automatically, Black Eyes reached out to grab Wingfoot's bridle—with his right hand.

Seizing my opportunity, I released my knife from its hidden sheath in my sleeve. I twisted what little bit I could to get as far away from the Haradric knife as I was able, then drove my own blade into my captor's thigh.

By the time he finished screaming, Black Eyes was on the ground, being thoroughly pummeled by my fiancee.

* * *

"Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"I am perfectly fine." I assured Eomer. "Everything went according to plan."

"No, it didn't. Damn, he cut your neck, didn't he? I'll kill him…"

I was wrapped securely in Eomer's arms, watching as Elessar's men bound Black Eyes tightly. Next to him lay the other two Haradrim. They hadn't gotten very far once the King's trackers had been sent out after them, and had returned just in time to witness the end of their comrade's beating.

I had the feeling it would have been a lot worse beating if I hadn't been there to stop Eomer, as Elessar hadn't seemed very inclined to interfere.

"It's over, Eomer. Everyone is safe." I smiled up at him, and leaned into his kiss. It was a long, thorough kiss that left me weak in the knees and clinging to Eomer for support. It, too, might have gone on longer if we had not bee interrupted by a loud throat clearing just behind us.

"I am most relieved to have you some safe and well, Lothiriel, but I must warn you: there had better be a very good explanation for all of this." Perfect.

It was Father.

* * *

Me Again: I swear on pain of…no Orlando Bloom pictures for a week, the next update will be sooner!


	21. Conversations

**Excuses, excuses: **OK, I have this book report due, and school starts in a little over a week, and I told myself that I wouldn't write any more fanfic until it was done, right? Well, it didn't work. So here I am again, typing until my mother makes me go to bed. I'm SO SORRY it took so long! I haven't looked at Orli, pics, I swear!

OK, maybe there was that one from the set of Elizabethtown...but that's it! Scouts' honor!

Distributes brownies, and vows to make this chapter extra-long

Oh, and some bonus lyrics:

_Her daddy says_

_"He ain't worth a lick"_

_"When it comes to brains he got the short end of the stick"_

_But Katie's young, and then she just don't care_

_She'd follow Tommy_

_Anywhere_

_She's in love with the boy_

_She's in love with the boy_

_She's in love with the boy_

_And even if they have to run away_

_She's gonna marry that boy someday_

_-_Trisha Yearbook, _She's in Love with the Boy_

* * *

"Father!" I cried, stepping out of Eomer's embrace to awkwardly curtsy.

Eomer grabbed my arm and yanked me back to his side, apparently perfectly at ease. "Prince Imrahil," He said, nodding in response to Father's look of disbelief. "It is good to see you again, for there are many matter of which we need to speak."

"Obviously." Father stroked his beard and glared at Eomer. He turned to me with the same look, but with a sigh broke down and wrapped me in a giant hug. "Thank the Valar you are safe!"

"I am sorry for causing you grief, Father, but I will not say I regret leaving. For much good has come of my escapade." I said the words solemnly, but with little sorrow. I was glad to be home, true, and I had missed my family...but Eomer was my life now, and always would be. Though we were not officially wed, in my heart, my first loyalty was to him.

"We will talk of this later, Ria. There are matters of state that must be seen to immediately, but as soon as they are finished I will come find you. For now, my guards will escort you up to the palace." Father motioned to his Swanguard to come forward, turning to greet Elessar formally. I squeezed Eomer's hand and remounted my mare.

"Will you be all right?" He asked.

I nodded. "It is best if I do what he asks of me for now. I will see you as soon as I can, but if not, meet me in the western-most garden an hour after dark." Pausing, I added, "I love you, Eomer."

"And I love you, my dearest lady."

* * *

Not ever aspect of my return to Dol Amroth was laced with the awkwardness of impending change. My room was just as I had left it, and I let out a cry of relief and joy upon seeing that a hot bath had been made ready for me. Tearing off my over-worn brown dress, I threw it on the floor and stepped into the steaming tub.

"I've become fond of you," I addressed the tired garment, "but frankly, you need to be burned."

The bath was just what I wanted. Water just under scalding-hot, scented with lilac oils, drew the aches and discomforts of travel out of my body. I soaked for a good hour, till the water was uncomfortably cool, before getting out. During that hour I did not let my mind dwell on the task that loomed ahead of me: explaining myself to my father.

Afterwards, I slipped into a long, fluffy white robe and sat beneath the canopy of my bed to comb the tangles out of my hair. Our short stop in Minas Tirith had been pleasant, but conditions on the ship had been somewhat lacking in hygienic necessities. I was just finishing up when a knock sounded on my door.

"Who is it?" I called.

"Us." Elphir's voice came through the heavy mahogany muffled, but I could tell he was anxious to see me.

"Come in!" I answered. Immediately, the door flew open and my three handsome brothers flew into the room.

"Where have you _been,_ Ria?"

"We were so worried!"

"How could you do such a thing?"

"Was it worth it?"

"Did you have any adventures?"

"How did you wind up with King Eomer?"

"We heard about the plot. How did you discover it?"

"Did he truly kiss you? Can I kill him?"

"NO!" I yelled in response to Amrothos' last question, which I had barely managed to pick out from the barrage of queries being aimed at me.

"No, he didn't kiss you?"

"Yes."

"Oh, yes, I can kill him. Lovely!"

"No! Amrothos..."

"All right, all right. Quiet down." Elphir, the oldest, tried to bring us to order. "Ria, we're all dying to know: Where have you been? And why did you leave?"

I was silent for a moment. Then, quietly, "I'll tell you, but I only want to explain this once, so listen carefully. Afterwards, I expect you to help me figure out how to tell everything to Father." My brothers quietly took seats around the room. Amrothos lounged next to me on the bed while Erchirion and Elphir drew chairs up close.

"You know I wasn't too eager to marry Kutheia," I began, "But I was willing to do so, if the City needed it. I merely wanted to experience a little excitement first..."

And so the story spilled forth, slowly, from my memories of the past month. When I finished, the boys were decidedly more sober than they had been when they first entered my room. I waited for their reactions.

Silence.

"I'm glad you went." Amrothos blurted out with a defiant look at Elphir. I beamed at him.

"Really?"

"Yes. I think we pushed you too hard with Kutheia, and obviously Father made a bad decision there. I think..." He paused as if to gather his thoughts, "I think we've spent too many years managing your life, since Mother died, Ria. You're a grown woman now. You should be able to make your own decisions."

My eyes filled with tears. How I loved my youngest brother! Of course, I adored them all...but Amrothos and I had always been close.

"I agree." Erchirion added slowly. "It wasn't our choice to make. Perhaps it was our punishment for meddling that we worried so about you."

I shook my head. "I'm glad I went, but I should have let you know that I was safe."

"Yes." Elphir said abruptly. "You should have."

"Do you condemn me then, Elphir?"

He smiled at me. "Never, sister. I love you too much. You will be 21 in two days, and that is plenty old enough to strike out on your own when you feel the need, and I will say so to Father if he tries to punish you."

I giggled. "If he tries, he will have Eomer to deal with. By the laws of Rohan, I am now the responsibility of my husband-to-be."

Amrothos snorted. "And I'm sure we all wish him the best of luck in dealing with you."

I threw a pillow at him.

* * *

"I love him, Father. I will marry him, with or without your blessing. Will you not give it to us?"

Father was sitting behind his desk in his office, face bowed over clasped hands. I had related the same story my brothers had heard (without revealing Eowyn's involvement, of course), and was now at the point where I had to convince him to _not_ lock me in a tower for the rest of my life, and instead allow me to wed King Eomer. He sat there, silent, for so long I feared he had died from shock.

I started when he finally spoke, not raising his head. "I wronged you in making a poor choice of husband for you, Ria. Yet you also wronged me through your lack of faith. Of the two, I perhaps owe you the greater apology. My first inclination is to allow you to marry Eomer, but to require a year-long engagement, to be sure that this is truly love and not childish infatuation."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Father lifted his head and silenced me with a look. "_However,_ I fear this would be hypocritic of me, since I had originally intented to arrange your marriage to the man anyway." Here he cleared his throat and fnished formally, "Therefore, I give my blessing to the promise of this union, in the hope that it will bring my daughter joy."

I leapt up and ran around his desk to hug him. "Thank you, Father. This means so much to me!"


	22. A Wedding

**AN:** There's no excuse for this. I mean, there is, but it's not a very good one, so I won't even bother to type it in. Just let me say:

I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING!!! I hate it when fanfic authors do that, and here I was doing the same thing. :( Oh well, here it is at last, the final chapter of The Chase.

* * *

The rest of my day was taken up by a formal greeting of the populace, and a high state dinner. Eomer and I didn't have the chance to do more than cast smoldering glances at one another down the length of the dining table. I was so anxious to tell him father's decision, Elphir had to remind me more than once not to eat so fast.

At long last, after 3 hours of polite mingling, Amrothos escorted me back to my room. Not all of my yawns had been faked for a quick exit; it had been a long day.

"It is good to have you back, Ria. Goodnight." My brother smiled and embraced me quickly before leaving me at my door. His happiness gave me a brief sense of guilt: I had not yet told the boys that I would be leaving Dol Amroth permanently in a few months.

Once in my chambers again, I exchanged my cumbersome dinner dress for a plain, dark blue gown. The silvery gray cloak I donned would help the shadows cling to me, I hoped. The gardens would likely be completely deserted by this hou5r, but the last thing I wanted was a witness to the intimacy I fully expected- and hoped- Eomer and I would indulge ourselves in.

I knew it would be some time before Eomer could escape the hall, but I unlatched the glass door that led into my garden and stepped outside anyway. It was a beautiful night, overflowing with moonlight, winking white stars, and the distant sound of the tides crashing to shore. Taking a deep breath, I savored the smell of the sea air... only to encounter a vague longing for the grassy, earthy smell of Rohan's breezes. Slowly, I worked my way westwards, until I was standing against the stone wall that overlooked the ocean. Off to the south I could see the great beacons that were always kept lit to warn ships away from the rocks.

My mind wandered forward in time. It was going to be hard to leave my family, my old home... but for Eomer, I knew, I would do anything. The strength of my feelings for him frightened me a bit until I remembered the expression in his deep brown eyes whenever he looked at me. I smiled to myself, knowing he loved me as much as I loved him.

* * *

"When you say 'westernmost' you really mean it, don't you my lady?"

I jumped at the sudden voice behind me. As hands closed on my shoulders from behind, I couldn't help but flash back to that morning's adventures. I whirled around, knife at the ready...

Only to find it taken away from me and pocketed by my assailant. Again.

"You would think I'd learn not to sneak up on you, love." Eomer chuckled at the look of relief on my face.

"Someday you really must teach me how to attack someone standing behind me and NOT have my blade confiscated." I relaxed and accepted my dagger back from Eomer.

"And have my throat cut? I think not." I turned towards the sea again, leaning my head backwards to rest on his shoulder. His arms tightened pleasantly around my waist. We were companionably silent for a few moments.

"I talked to Father today."

I felt Eomer's muscles tense at my back. "What did he say?"

"About what?" I smiled to myself, enjoying teasing the King of Rohan.

"About what, she says. You know what: us." Eomer stepped back and spun me around to face him.

He was wearing the robe I had made for him. Its dark hues set off his golden hair and noble expression to perfection. His dark, dark eyes froze me to the ground once again. Such eyes should be illegal south of Rohan, I thought, for they would surely be my undoing tonight.

Not that I would really mind.

"Well?" Eomer interrupted my reverie.

I paused, savoring the moment. "He gave us his blessing, Eomer. We are free to marry."

In an instant, I was swept off my feet and twirled around, laughing. Still holding me up, Eomer looked down at me with an elated expression and kissed me passionately. The world spun away. There was only Eomer's hard body, his heated lips on mine, and the feel of his hair as I ran my fingers through it.

"Let's do it tonight." Eomer finally lowered me to the ground and spoke.

I tried to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. "Do what?"

"Get married."

I stared up at him. "What? There's no priest, no witnesses..."

"In the Rohirric tradition, there is no need for anything but the vow of two people to love only each other. I need to year you say the words, Ria. I will understand if you wish to wait until our marriage is formally acknowledged it, but please...I love you so much, I feel like I can't wait anymore to declare myself to you."

My eyes were filled with tears of joy. "Oh, Eomer that was beautiful. Of course I agree...I- I don't want to wait, either."

Eomer drew himself up to a tall, kingly stature and took my hands.

"Then I, Eomer King of Rohan, son of Eomund Marshall of the Mark and sister-son of Theoden King do hereby take as my wife Lothiriel, princess of Dol Amroth of Gondor, daughter of Imrahil. I vow in this moment to love, cherish, and respect her throughout our lives together, to be true to her and loyal to her and to set her highest in my esteem. Eru and Valar, witness our union and bless it." He took something out of his pocket and slipped it onto my finger. I looked down and saw that it was a signet ring, closely resembling his own, yet smaller and more delicate. A woven gold band held a deep-green stone overlaid with...

"A winged horse? I have never seen such a thing before."

Eomer smiled. "With your leave, my lady, it is to be your personal seal and symbol. It combines the horse of Rohan with the swan of Dol Amroth, that you may show pride in both your homes. I commissioned it while we were in Minas Tirith, and it was rushed here as soon as it was done."

"It is beautiful, Eomer. I love it!" A moment passed as I admired the marvelously wrought ring and waited for my wedding vows to come to me. They soon did.

"I, Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth of Gondor, daughter of Imrahil, do hereby take as my beloved husband Eomer King of Rohan. Before the Valar and The One I pledge to love and honor him forever, to be faithful and loyal to him, to respect him and stand always by his side. May our marriage be blessed."

In the sacred West, a star seemed to flash brighter than its neighbors for a second. With a burst of white light, it streaked across the sky.

* * *

I led Eomer slowly back to my room. Thankfully, my handmaid was not in attendance, but there was an oil lamp burning beside my bed. I stooped to blow it out.

I will leave it to your imagination what happened next. I had had ideas about what to expect in the marriage bed, and after kissing Eomer so much they had been quite pleasantly detailed. Suffice it to say, however, that the reality proved to be much, much better than I had dreamed. For a moment, we were truly one.

Afterwards we lay together gazing up at the canopy. Lazily, I spoke my thoughts.

"I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't run away."

My husband leaned over me. "We would have found each other eventually. Some things are meant to be."

I smiled at that sweet sentiment. "Undoubtedly...but perhaps you wouldn't have had to follow me through the wilderness, wounded, if we had met at a state function."

Eomer considered that. "You did lead me a merry chase, Ria...but it was worth it. I wouldn't trade that chase for the world."

THE END.


End file.
